The Journey of the Titan
by Damiar
Summary: One mutant's journey from fugitive to hero. Discover Nathan's tale before he became Titan. Lindsey's long lost love emerges from the shadows.
1. Fugitive

Nathan sat alone in the basement at his girlfriend's house. She had gone to the church to pray. He would love to have gone with her but the circumstances didn't exactly permit him going into public. He was watching the news. The stories were the same on every channel: mutants everywhere simultaneously went berserk and started attacking and killing random non-mutants. They were calling it an 'international act of collaborative terrorism.' He didn't know what to think about it all. He himself had attacked and killed two police officers. He didn't know what had come over him. He heard all of the commotion going on outside his work, in the parking lot, so he went to check it out.

The known mutants in the workplace were gathering together and rioting violently. He wanted no part of thing; he even tried to calm them down. When a fellow worker pointed him out as a mutant, two police officers came to arrest him. They'd drawn their guns and threatened to fire on him if he didn't comply. All of a sudden, all of the hatred that he felt towards those intolerant of mutants welled up inside of him. It wasn't his fault that he was a mutant—he was born that way—God made him the way he was. He lashed out quickly and had killed them with his bare hands before he'd even realized what he had done.

He looked down at his hands; he could still see their blood in his mind. He felt so guilty about it. He had _murdered_ two men. They probably had families, wives and children. It wasn't his place to take the life of another human being, mutant or non-mutant. Though he still felt guilty about it he knew that something was up. There was no way that every mutant on the planet would simultaneously get the same idea to start killing non-mutants; it wasn't logical.

His thoughts fell on Lindsey. She had killed members of their own church, her aunt and grandmother included. There was no way that she would have done something like that without some sort of outside influence or control. Nathan had decided the same thing about himself, and many other mutants he knew he had done similar things when the attack began.

Something didn't quite fit, and he wanted to learn more. He was sure that the truth would come out eventually, though he didn't trust the media even one iota. It was certain that the MCA was looking for him by now. Someone at his workplace had turned him in. Whoever it was probably told them about Lindsey too. She had just been fired from her job at the credit union only a week or so beforehand. He told plenty of his buddies at work what he thought of that.

He was open about being a mutant and defended his position with all his might. He firmly believed that he was who he was, and that there was nothing that he, or anyone, could do to change that. Mutants were a real thing, and more and more were being born everyday. No doubt, the future would one day lead to everyone being a mutant. Then there would be no more persecution and bigotry. Nathan longed for that day when they could just be people again.

His mom had called him earlier, telling him that the MCA had come to the house looking for him. They'd taken Bryan away in handcuffs, no doubt to be hauled off to a concentration camp. Bryan, his twin brother, was also a mutant. Though they were not identical, their powers were. Both of them housed super-enhanced speed and strength. Roughly, three times as strong and fast as an average man, though they looked like average guys.

Nathan's doctor told him that there was in irregular protein that his body created, as a result of his mutation. That protein gave him an irregularly strong muscle structure. If he were to lift weights, and work to build those muscles, he would probably get twice as big, and gain an unknown about of strength. He built muscle at an accelerated rate, and one pound of his muscle was as good as three times a normal man's muscle. Whenever Nathan started playing on the church's softball team, his calves had doubled in size after only one practice and one game.

Most people had the problem of working to do more physical activity but if Nathan did too much, he'd gain enough muscle not to fit into his clothes the next day. His body devoured fat and thus left him looking lean and cut all the time. He also ate about three times as much meat as most men, which was a lot. His doctor told him that his metabolism allowed and even called for such a diet. As a result, food was his biggest bill every month.

He knew that unless he found someplace to go, a safe haven for mutants, he would soon be in the MCA's custody and hauled off to a prison. He gave a heavy sigh and looked at the time. There wasn't much to do but read, watch movies and play with the dog inside Lindsey's house. He'd been sitting around all day. He'd done some push-ups, crunches and arm curls with the couch when he got bored. His skin already had new stretch marks from the muscle growing so large. That was one downside to his power: the stretch marks. His muscle grew so big, so fast his skin often didn't have time to compensate. He took massive doses of vitamin E and rubbed cocoa butter on himself all the time to help prevent it. He couldn't prevent them all but it helped a lot.

He rubbed the sweat from his brow. Though it was a hot summer day, Lindsey couldn't afford to turn on the air since she'd lost her job. He couldn't open widows and turn on the fans to get a breeze going because it had to look like no one was in the house. It was hot and stuffy all the time. Even though evening was approaching at it would soon drastically cool down, it was still too hot to just sit.

He got up, went to the bathroom, disrobed and turned the water onto lukewarm. He stepped into the shower and let the cool water cascade over his body. It was the only way to cool down in the house. He was careful to only take about three showers a day, and he made them quick. He didn't want to cost Lindsey any more trouble then he already had.

He stepped out and dried off. He pulled long cotton pajama pants on and decided to leave the shirt off. He sat back down on the couch and pointed the fan directly on him to keep himself cool. Gracie, Lindsey's hyperactive dog jumped playfully onto the couch and onto him, wanting some attention.

"Get down, Gracie," he said, scooping the small dog and setting her back on the floor. She only jumped back on the couch and onto him again, thinking it was a game. He repeated this ritual a few more times before he decided to lock her in the basement so she'd leave him alone. He wasn't in the mood to entertain a dog at that particular moment. As he stood up, he heard gravel crunching under tires in the driveway. It was probably Lindsey, coming home from prayer but the vehicle sounded bigger. Curiously—and cautiously—he went over the window, with the dog still in his arms and looked through the curtains. To his horror, he discovered several MCA cars outside. Men, in uniform were getting out, guns drawn.

He rushed to the basement and tossed Gracie on the first stair. He closed the door behind him and came back to the front room. Before he could get to the window he heard a banging on the door. A man spoke with a loud voice.

"Lindsey Basden! We have reason to believe that you are housing a fugitive of the law, a mutant named Nathan Henson. We have a warrant and if you do not answer the door in fifteen seconds, we will bust it down," he announced through the door.

_Fifteen seconds…what do I do_?

A thousand thoughts started to go through his head as he began to count the seconds away. Should he run? He was a criminal after all. Did they know that Lindsey was a mutant too? Was she in danger? He had to think fast. It was the difference between going quietly and becoming a fugitive on the lam, running from the authorities. He knew that if he ran, the MCA would hunt him down wherever he was. He might not even be able to make it out the door. He knew that if he went quietly, and they hauled him away, he would never see daylight again. They would lock him in some sort of underground, overcrowded prison or concentration camp where he could only await death.

With four seconds left to spare he ran for the kitchen and went for the back door. They weren't taking him alive, not today. He ran out the kitchen door and stepped out on the stairs. There was still a man in the car, watching that exit. He honked the horn to alert the others. Nathan jumped over landing and took off as fast as his legs could carry him, which was about fifty-five miles an hour when he got to full speed.

"Get him!" he heard the MCA yell and then heard gunfire. He turned the corner and heard the bullets hit trees as they sailed past him. He was out of their line of sight, but he wouldn't be for long. He began to think of places to go, but nothing came to his mind.

_Lindsey! The church!_

He started cutting through yards, jumping over fences with a single bound so that it would be harder for the MCA to pursue him. He was cutting a straight line to the church, without having to worry about traffic or stoplights. He'd be there in only a few minutes.

As he ran, he felt his muscles start to pulse and bulge. Because of how much he was pushing himself, they were growing on the spot, as he ran. His leg muscles rippled and suddenly he felt himself pick up speed. His legs would be huge by the time he was done, but at that moment, he was only grateful for the extra boost.

When he ran up to the church, he found the parking lot nearly empty. He saw Lindsey's car go down towards the side of the hill and onto the main road. There were armored jeeps pursuing her.

_Lindsey!_

"FREEZE!" he heard a man yell through a megaphone. He and a woman got out of the car, guns drawn. On of them held a scanner that they pointed at him. He was too far away to hear what the machine said, but he knew that they would identify him as a mutant. It should not have been too hard to tell, as fast as he'd suddenly run up into the church parking lot.

He could be caught now. He started to look for a route of escape and they started shooting. The first few sailed harmlessly past him but one punched him hard in the shoulder and knocked him back. He fell onto the pavement and looked at his shoulder in disbelief. The pain was horrible. The lead part of the bullet hadn't penetrated the skin though. There wasn't even a hole. It hurt, but he was strong enough so that bullets didn't go through him.

_Oh, they are about to have a really bad day_, he thought to himself. He was on his feet and running for them full speed before they knew what was coming. He put his hands in front of his face and they started shooting again. He felt the bullets bouncing painfully off of him. Peeking through a gap, he stopped before the man and punched him in the chin as hard as he could. He heard and felt his spinal cord giving way as he sailed up, through the air and squarely into one of the churches window. Without doubt, the blow had killed him, bringing him up to three people he'd killed.

He ducked and tripped the woman to the ground before she could shoot him. He was never one to hit a woman but his situation demanded he do something. He snatched the gun out of her hand and threw it onto the roof. She reached for another weapon and he grabbed her by the ankles. He spun her in a circle and through her into the jeep behind them. She bounced off of it like a rag doll and fell limp onto the ground, unconscious. He was sure that he had not killed her.

He was about to turn and run in the direction Lindsey's car was heading but more MCA jeeps pulled in to the parking lot and roared towards him. There was a man at the top, holding an assault rifle. Nathan ran to meet him head-on. He jumped into the air and put his feet first, kicking the guy in the head. He felt his neck snap back and the top of his head hit the top of the jeep—another instant kill. That put him up to four people in a matter of seconds. He landed on his feet as another jeep came roaring towards him.

He had no way of jumping over this one in time. He tried to run out of the way and the driver opened his door and slammed into him, as it roared past. Nathan hit the ground harder than he'd ever hit something in his life. He didn't feel any bones give way but the asphalt underneath cracked and split as if a wrecking ball had hit it. He also broke the door completely off of the jeep. He was glad they weren't driving Escalades now.

The next jeep tried to run him over but he rolled so that it rolled over him without putting him under any tires. He was on his feet in a flash, his muscles throbbing and growing bigger by the second. One of the jeeps began to fire the automatic rifle at him. Nathan ran for the church entrance as fast as he could. He had been able to stop a low-caliber handgun but he didn't know if the rifle rounds would do more damage—not something he was willing to find out the hard way. When he knew he could clear it, he dove towards the glass door and tucked his head. He burst through the glass that was still intact and skidded across the floor into the table inside the foyer.

He snapped the legs on the table as it, and its contents, crashed to the floor and on top of him. The whole dive and roll thing didn't work as he'd planned. The mirror on the wall also came crashing down on him. It shattered but most of the pieces stayed inside the frame.

His mutation was putting his muscles on overload. He could feel the strength and mass growing all around him. It wouldn't be long before his skin would start to stretch again. He didn't have time to worry about that. He cleared himself from the glass and wreckage and looked outside. The man in the jeep was holding the shape of something Nathan knew all too well. He'd seen enough movies to recognize a rocket launcher. The other jeep with a gunner still inside held the same thing.

_This could be bad_.

He saw them firing and ran towards the sanctuary doors. They opened by being pulled open but he burst through them, breaking them off of their hinges and sending wood splinters everywhere. The first explosion hit the foyer behind him but the second one hit the wall next to which he was running. He jumped up and to his left to avoid as much of the blast as he could. The shockwave gave him a little extra push in his jump as he sailed through the air. He came crashing down on the other side of the sanctuary, cracking a few pews in half and unbolting them from the ground.

He groaned in pain and lay still for only a second, for he could afford no longer than that. He could only hope that they didn't have any more rockets for their launchers. He didn't know how many times he could do what he'd just done. He jumped to his feet and grabbed a half of a pew. He ran for the new entrance to the church created, thanks to the MCA wrecking crew. When he saw a jeep in sight, he hurled the heavy, oak pew as hard has he could, cause another wave of muscle throbbing. The pew sailed through the air, out the opening and through the windshield of the car, crushing the driver.

What Nathan didn't plan on was the driver pushing on the gas pedal, sending his jeep barreling through the church. He dove out of its path just in time. This time, he was able to tuck and roll as he planned and was on his feet again. Mayhem swept through the church sanctuary, as even more pews were unbolted from the ground. The jeep, traveling at such a high speed, burst through the wall on the other side.

_Holy cow, this place is destroyed_, he thought to himself. It didn't too much matter anymore. The church was closed and they were looking for a buyer for the property. What was significantly more important was the three men who coming through the opening firing automatic rifles at Nathan's head. He dodged the barrage of bullets and ducked behind a pew. He lifted another pew and hurled it at his pursuers. Two of them ducked, but one was knocked clean off of his feet and to the floor.

Nathan felt a stream of bullets hit him in the chest and he fell again. He looked to see that these also, were unable to break the skin, but they hurt even worse than the pistol rounds. He crawled underneath a pew so that he was hidden from sight. Hiding under the pews wasn't exactly the best idea, Nathan quickly decided. What was worse than being shot from a distance, he knew, was being shot from point blank range. He might not be so lucky to have the bullets bounce off him from a closer range. He still had two more to take care of and he couldn't think of a way of getting rid of one without getting riddled by bullets from the other's gun. A thought dawned on him as he crawled on the floor under the pews towards the general direction of the MCA agents. He saw a boot close to him and he grabbed it. He gripped it with all of the strength in his hands, feeling skin and bone give way. He tugged the man to the floor. His rifle fired of shots into the air and the wall as he screamed in pain. Nathan pulled him close and punched him in the face. He felt bone and pulp squish under his might blow…another certain kill.

The noise following was enormous. The other agent began furiously shooting downwards, through the pews. Nathan rolled, his swelling body barely able to clear the small space between the floor and the bottom of the pew. He was lucky enough to avoid getting shot from the first stream of bullets. He could hear the sound of the agent reloading, the metallic clang of an empty magazine dropping to the floor.

_Now's my chance!_

He jumped up from under a pew, unbolting it from the floor. He wrapped his arms around it, swung it like a massive baseball bat. The pew connected with the last agent, sending him up towards the balcony of the sanctuary. Suddenly, the man disappeared out of sight but there was a horrible crash from upstairs and then there was no movement at all. Nathan didn't have time to check and see if any of the others were dead. At that moment, the only thing on his mind was Lindsey.

The emergency exit door in the sanctuary was wide open, exposing the dusky, summer evening. He could see the mall across the street, closed because of damages and crimes committed during the day of the attack. As he stepped out into the warm, summer air he took a look to the right and the left, making for absolute certainty that Lindsey had gone the direction he'd thought she'd went. Even in the few minutes that she'd had to get a head start on him, was significant. He didn't know if he could travel fast enough to catch her, as she would no doubt be going as fast as her little blue car would take her. He had to give it a try.

He sprinted down the once busy road as fast as his legs would carry him. Everything was kind of at a standstill since the mutant attack. Everyone was staying inside their houses, humans to avoid mutants and mutants to avoid humans. It was completely absurd, Nathan thought. He didn't see any reason for people to fight just because of mutants. To him, he put it on the same level of unintelligence as racism, sexism or other forms of bigotry and prejudice. To discriminate and persecute someone just because they were different was hateful and evil. He'd always been open and proud that he was a mutant. For many sympathizers, he'd gained a lot of respect, but for those who hated mutants, he had had to deal with their antics. Once, someone at work had keyed the word "freak" into his brand new car. He wanted to rip the guy's head off, but he had a responsibility to mutantkind to keep his cool.

He cam to a stoplight, a few stray cars daring to come outside, were crossing perpendicular on their green light. He wasn't going to wait on a traffic light. He jumped into the air sailing way over the cars and back into his lane. He hadn't even noticed that he was staying squarely in the lane as if he were driving. It was just pure habit, he decided. He continued down the road and noticed a MCA jeep crushed and wrecked on the side of the road.

_Oh well…one less that I won't have to take care of_.

He found another one in even worse shape than the first next to the big music store at the bottom of the hill. He ran towards the grocery store, proceeding under the overpass. As he came up the next hill, he saw an MCA jeep, open and stopped in the middle of the lane. He looked down the hill and saw Lindsey's horribly wrecked car. In a flash, he was down in the wreckage, turning the tiny car over. There was no one inside. Other than some blood in the backseat, there was no sign of anyone being injured. He looked around by the jeep, finding several MCA agents dead on the ground but still no sign of Lindsey anywhere.

Was it possible that she could have survived the crash, put up a fight with the agents and then was caught? There were black tire marks from someone peeling out and away from the scene. He couldn't possibly know where it had come from. He stood, not knowing what to do or where to go. He had to get a hold of Lindsey somehow. Did he dare take the chance to go back to the house to get his cell phone? No, the MCA had probably already turned the house inside-out by now. Going back would mean that he'd have to start another fight and risk getting killed.

He was out of options, he had no place that he could go, no place to hide. He heard the distinct sirens of MCA cars approaching form not far away. One thing was for sure, and that was that he was done for one day with the MCA. He ran, with all of his might, unsure of where he was going. He ran though, leaving the love of his life's wrecked car behind without answers or any assurance that she was safe. He felt his muscles swell, stretch and expand as he continued to run.


	2. Prisoner

_Hiding again…this is so unproductive. I should be out there looking for her!_

He had scolded himself several times already. He never should have let her go to the church by herself to pray. He could have gone with her, or they could have prayed right there in the safety and seclusion of her house.

_Maybe if you'd start taking charge and being a man about the things you know are right, neither one of you would be in the situation you're in_.

He had broken into an old Baptist school and was washing himself off in the locker room shower. He would have to put on the same clothes in a few minutes, which he was reluctant to do, considering the summer heat. The school maintained having running water and electricity but didn't see the need in turning the air conditioner on. He didn't blame them, but still resented them for the fact. He found some clean towels and dried off. He looked himself over in the mirror. Sure enough, he had a new set of stretch marks across his shoulders, along his back and on the backs of his thighs. The daily treatment of cocoa butter kept them from being too horrendous. They were still new, red and quite visible. He didn't know if he'd have the option of taking it easy for a while, to let the muscles go down.

His stomach grumbled loudly, begging to be fed food. He didn't know if he wanted to risk going outside, but he had to eat. Although, forcing himself not to eat anything would result in his body using his muscles for fuel. The swelling would go down and the stretch marks would be less apparent. It would take a while and he'd have to starve in the meantime. He needed to eat, he decided, dismissing the previous idea.

_First things first, Nate. Call Lindsey_.

He pulled on his boxer-briefs and took a stroll around the gym looking for a phone. He could not find one and he was not surprised. How many high school gyms had telephones hanging around? He'd have to search elsewhere in the school, hoping that they maintained a phone service. He figured that they would. It was late enough in the summer for them to start taking enrollment. There was probably even someone on staff to sit in an office and take calls all day. He was glad that it was well past hours, so as not to be discovered.

As he went through the school, looking for a phone, he discovered the kitchen. The temptation was too much to pass up. He opened the fridge and found everything he needed to make a sandwich, sans the bread. He looked around long enough to discover some and suddenly he was a sandwich-making machine. He ate until there was no more bread in the loaf. He might've overdone it, but his stomach was plenty satisfied. He felt the after-meal fatigue setting in before long. He found a phone and picked it up to discover that there was no service to it.

_Wonderful_.

His thoughts fell onto an old friend of his: Caleb O'Fallon. He always used to say, "wonderful" in a sarcastic way whenever something didn't go his way. He hadn't seen Caleb in almost a year now. He disappeared right before the earthquake happened and was never seen alive by anyone afterwards.

When his parents finally accepted that he was dead, Nathan had attended the funeral to pay his respects. Caleb would never know how many people loved and missed him, long after he'd run away. The search and rescue teams throughout the Midwest had never discovered his body. In bleak, dark times such as the days they were living in, it was futile to hold out hope of someone's survival—especially that of a mutant.

Caleb was one of Nathan's closest and most loyal friends. They'd been leaders in their youth group together. Though he was three years older than Caleb, he had always found himself hanging around him. He, as goofy as he was, was very mature for his age—wise beyond his years. He mourned his death as he had so many of his friends.

His mutant friends were being taking away by the MCA almost daily now. He decided that he wouldn't sit on his hands until the MCA came for him, but would take the action to defend his freedom. Now, for all he knew, his beloved was in the hands of the very last people he would have her with. He brought his thoughts back to her.

There was no use in leaving the safe haven of the school, where there was a shower, shelter and food. He went into the nurse's office and lay down on the bed that was there. It wasn't a cot, as he'd had going to school, but a twin size bed with two pillows and thick cover. He wouldn't need the cover in the heat. He turned on the fan in the room, set it on oscillate, blowing a cool breeze through the air.

He lay down, atop the sheets, worried he would never be able to get to sleep thinking about Lindsey. Within seconds, he was in a deep sleep, dreaming about Lindsey. It was a nightmare; she was calling out for help to him from somewhere. He couldn't see her but he could hear her in the distance, slowing fading away from him. There was nothing that he could do to help her.

* * *

He woke up to the sound of glass breaking followed closely by an explosion and a bright flash. He was lucky enough to have had his eyes closed when the bomb went off, so that he was not blinded. He jumped out of bed, his head whirling, trying to gather his equilibrium and failing miserably. Soon breathing became hard as choking white gas filled the room. He had no choice but to run full force away from the office. He squinted, his eyes now filled with gummy tears from the gas and barreled through the school. He ran for the library across the hall and hid behind some shelves. He heard the sound of boots scurrying across the floor. He couldn't tell an exact number he could tell that there were a bunch of them and they were coming from more than one direction.

"Proceed with caution men; this one's extremely dangerous," he heard a voice giving commands from the center of the room. He had to know that Nathan could hear him. Through the books, he could see that men were coming on either side of the shelf that he was on. He ran to the right as hard as he could, knowing he'd have to choose a side sooner or later. He caught the agent's rifle and ripped it from his grip. He kicked him, sending him flying down the row of shelves, across the room and into a wall.

He was not familiar with using a gun, but he figured he couldn't go wrong with 'point and shoot.' He aimed down the row from which he was hiding, took aim at the man standing at the other end of it and opened fire. The automatic weapon sent bullets streaming into the man's body and he fell to the floor. Nathan ducked behind the next set of shelves, trying to control his breathing so that he didn't give his location away.

He heard more boots scurrying his way so he turned and opened fire. He could feel bullets smash into his chest and arms but he was able to shoot three more agents before his gun ran empty.

"Fan out!" he heard one of the men command.

_Bad idea buddy_, Nathan thought slyly. As he listened to the men obey, he shoved the shelf nearest to him with all of his might, surprised, despite their mass, that they were not bolted to the floor. The domino effect locked a few of the agents under the weight of books and shelves but left him open to a straight on attack from those who had heeled to their leader. He hit the ground and army crawled as bullets zoomed past his over his head. He saw that an agent had dropped one of his utility belts to the floor. There were three grenades attached to the belt. Nathan felt guilty as the smile crossed his face. He snatched up the belt and unhooked two grenades. Putting two of the grenades to his mouth, the pins in his teeth, he yanked them free from the grenades and lobbed them at his attackers.

A few bullets managed to hit him as he surfaced but it was nothing compared to the catastrophe coming their way.

"GRENADE!" one of them screamed in warning, but it was too late.

The sound was nothing like the movies. Even surround sound technology couldn't match the massive _boom_ that rattled through the library, shattering windows and blowing men to pieces. Nathan stood up, hoping that he'd eliminated all of them, but to no avail. A few of them had dove out of the way. Their leader, who Nathan could distinguish from his different attire, was missing his legs.

_Strike the shepherd and the sheep shall scatter_.

Strangely, the leader's legs began to reshape and reform. His wounds from the shrapnel began to heal as well at a rate Nathan had never seen before. He was dressed in crimson red ninja garb, his face masked. He was armed to the teeth. From where Nathan was standing he could see twin swords, twin pistols, a shotgun and other knives tucked in his belts and boots. Now, his new legs were bare from where the old ones with the pant legs had been blown off.

Nathan's better judgment told him to run but he was too fascinated by this man's ability to heal. No ordinary man would be able to perform such a feat.

"I'm always telling them," the man spoke, "never send a man to do a mutant's job!" He sprang forward with unbelievable prowess and poise. Nathan put up his fists to block the attack from the man. He was caught completely off guard. The man unsheathed one of his swords and Nathan felt a slice across his left arm. He winced and stumbled backwards into a shelf. He was sure the limb had come off but when he looked he saw that it was littler more than a bad paper cut.

"Impressive," the man spoke again, in a voice that oozed of darkness. "This sword's edge is an atom thick. It can move through flesh like air. You must have quite a power inside of you."

"Who are you?"

"The name's Jack…but you can call me…Deadpool," he hissed with a sneer. Even the name sounded dark and ominous.

"You're a mutant?" Nathan demanded in disbelief, eying his attacker.

"For all practical purposes, but we're not here to talk about me," he said slashing out at Nathan. He was ready this time, strafing away from the attack.

"So let's get on with it!" Nathan yelled, springing towards the attacker. He gave him a blow to the chin he was sure he wouldn't forget. The attacker flew backwards, flipped and landed on his feet. He upholstered a handgun and opened fire on Nathan. He guarded his face against the bullets. Before long, the clip ran empty and the attacker was left open for another blow from Nathan's mighty fists.

The attacker blocked, but Nathan felt bones give way under his blow. As his attacker backed away Nathan heard bones still popping. He was healing himself again, no doubt.

"Defensive against bullets as well, you _are_ an interesting subject. It's no wonder they want you for the Weapon X project," his speech slithered like a snake as he hissed through his hood. Nathan was not interested in anything he had to say. He charged him again only to be barraged by bullets again. He tried to snatch the man called Deadpool but he was too swift for him while he was under attack.

Three more slices sent pain shooting across his back and left arm again. Nathan reached for the man's sword, even though it cut his skin, he tugged it away from the man. With his new weapon, Nathan lobbed off the man's arms in two swift swipes, jabbed the blade into the man's navel and punched him through some shelves.

The man emerged from a pile of books, his arms intact, though now bare from the clothing having been cut away. He pulled the sword out and blood spurted out of his stomach, but then quickly stopped. The man smiled underneath his hood, his facial expression barely visible.

Nathan instantly realized the futility of the fight. Deadpool was neither as fast nor as strong as he was. His ability to regenerate instantaneously, even lost limbs, made him seemingly impossible to kill. The other agents were on their feet, ready to fire.

"Stop! Stand down soldier! I'm taking care of this one!" the man's voice rasped from across the room. With reluctance, fear and reverence, the men obeyed. There was no reason to stand and fight a battle he could not win. Nathan's pride was not as important as his safety and freedom. He turned tail and ran for his life towards a window. Before he realized it, yellow neon netting encased around him, pinning him to the floor. It was painful, as if it were burning him. The more he struggled the more pain it caused him. It was using his energy against him, he soon realized.

"Sleep…" Deadpool squirted some sort of gas in his face and Nathan instantly felt his vision blur. It was some sort of sleeping agent and he'd already inhaled way too much of it. His vision began to fade along with his hopes of rescuing his beloved.

_Lindsey…I'm so sorry_.

* * *

He woke up to the sound of a train moving on its tracks. The sound was unmistakable. When he opened his eyes, there was a blinding light shining down on him, but he was obviously used to it from being underneath it for so long. He shielded his eyes and stood up. He had never felt so weak and sore in his life. His mutant powers were gone; there was no mistaking it. Somehow, he'd been robbed of them. He looked and saw that he was underneath a bright circle in the center of one of the train's compartments. He stepped forward to get out of the light and suddenly a yellow, translucent cylinder appeared like a laser around the circumference of the circle he was in. Touching the yellow laser-light was like being burned, frozen and electrocuted at the same time. It wasn't intense unless he pushed hard on it. It was the same technology as the net he'd been trapped in, he remembered from his fight earlier, using his own energy against him.

"It's no use," whispered a voice that was all too familiar. Nathan wasn't exactly thrilled that he knew the sound of Deadpool's voice. "Your powers are only suspended while you're under the radiation in the chamber. I assure you that you haven't been robbed of them permanently."

"Where am I?"

"You're on a train bound for Sheol, the MCA's most notorious prison for the most dangerous mutants," Deadpool answered simply.

"Who are you?"

"I told you, the name is Jack. You may call me Deadpool."

"Why did you come after me?"

"You're just all full of questions aren't you? You should try being more concerned about what others have to say. For all you know, I could be willing to volunteer everything that you need to know," the man sneered. Nathan noticed that he was fully clothed again and still masked.

"Why are you helping the MCA to catch me?" Nathan rephrased his previous question. Deadpool gave a heavy sigh.

"I'm a Retriever—it's what I do. I handle cases of the most dangerous mutants, of which you stand among. I give the MCA what they want, and they grant me pay and pardon. It's quite a simple negotiation."

"You said that you are a mutant? They let you work for them?"

"I told you that I was a mutant _for all practical purposes_. I was not born a mutant, as you were, but made one through medical experimentation."

"Does that have anything to do with Weapon X?" Nathan inquired curiously. He wanted to bust out of the chamber he was in, but given his circumstances, he had no choice but to make conversation.

"I'm not going to discuss that," Deadpool replied simply. He was sharpening one of his swords. He said no more, and looked away, as if he didn't want to talk anymore.

"You're a mutant, made or born, and you hunt and retrieve mutants, sealing their fate with the MCA? How do you live with yourself?"

"A conscience is something that can be quelled, my friend, I assure you. I did away with mine a long time ago," he laughed. The sound was even creepier than his snake-like voice.

"I'm not your friend," Nathan spat.

"Considering your circumstances, I'm the only friend you have, Nathan," he laughed again.

"If you're my friend, then why don't you let me go? Why are you taking me to prison?"

"It's just business, friend. You're worth money and an extended pardon, that's all. I have to turn you in, but I can tell you everything that you need to know to survive in Sheol," he offered, his tone changing. There was almost, for a nanosecond, a shred of compassion and promise in his voice.

"What's Sheol again?" Nathan was sure that he'd heard that word before. The funny thing was, he thought of church and the Bible whenever he repeated the word in his mind.

"Sheol is a maximum security prison designed specifically for the most dangerous of mutants. Its levels are named after the worst parts of hell and the super computer that controls the security protocols is named after Abaddon, the Destroyer, keeper of the Bottomless Pit," Deadpool explained.

"That's lovely," Nathan said sarcastically, once again borrowing one of Caleb's colloquialisms.

"Quite the contrary. I've seen what they do to mutants there. Starving them, keeping them in a pit of darkness and doing all kinds of medical experiments on them…it's disgusting," he spat.

"I thought you did away with your conscience," Nathan challenged.

"I did, but that doesn't mean I'm not still aware of what is good and what is evil. We're all capable of both," he looked away.

"Why don't you let me go? You don't want me to have to go to Sheol, I can tell. Let me go," Nathan didn't mean to beg and plead, but his tone sounded desperate. He was afraid that Deadpool would laugh at his weakness and desperation.

"I'm sorry, friend, but I must. You're going to buy me a little more time with them. Time is all that I have left in this life. Besides, they will probably take you in the Weapon X program, which means that you'll be left alive," he assured, though his tone was not hopeful at all.

"What is Weapon X?"

"Originally it was an experimental project on mutants stationed in Canada. It was _closed_ long ago. All of the other members are dead now, Sabretooth, Silver Fox, Maverick, Wolverine…I am all that is left of that miserable project. They've reopened it there at Sheol, hoping to achieve the ultimate weapon. Enhanced senses and healing factors are their favorite mutations to work with so they'll think you'll do nicely," he smiled again, through his hood.

"How can you turn me over to something like that?"

"It's not so bad, if the experiments don't kill you," he sneered, his darkness slipping out again.

"For your sake, you'd better hope that we never meet again," Nathan said, quoting a taunt from one of his favorite movies.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I don't think that you're in the position to be making threats."

"If it weren't for people like you, mutants and humans might be able to live in peace!" Nathan gave a groundless accusation. He was too enraged to think of anything else clever to say. Deadpool laughed.

"You think I want to live this life? You think I want to have to hunt people down and turn them over to monsters like the MCA? No one chooses there lot in life, at least not now. I'll tell you my real intentions, my end to justify the means," he proposed, pausing for Nathan's approval.

"Well—let's hear it," Nathan shrugged, nothing better to do.

"If I continue to appease the bigwigs in the MCA, hunting down the mutants they see as such threats, I will be able to get close to the brass and kill the madman behind this all," Deadpool's speech had taken a diabolical air.

"You plan on assassinating the head of the MCA?" Nathan asked flabbergasted.

"Yes. Not just him, but all of his advisors and benefactors. I plan on crippling the MCA forever. I'm not in a position to do that in my current situation so…"

"So that's why you need to catch mutants—to gain approval from the MCA so that you can destroy them from within," Nathan filled in the blanks.

"Yes. Surely you can appreciate such a vision."

"I'm afraid I'm kind of biased considering I'm one of the lambs you're leading to the slaughter," Nathan replied.

"Point taken. I'm sorry that it had to be like this for you. I'm sorry that it had to be me. I don't like doing bad things to good men, but I must sacrifice the few for the sake of the many—if we want to be free…" he trailed off. He knew that what he was doing was wrong. Clearly, he thought it was okay to right a wrong with a wrong.

"It's amazing what lengths men will go to protect what they treasure most," Nathan added, mostly to his own thoughts.

"What do you treasure?" It was Deadpool's first question to him, his first sign of interest in Nathan on a personal level. The question caught him off guard.

"Life, love, the pursuit of happiness. Freedom, goodness, justice—things like that," Nathan replied, bearing his soul to him.

"That all sounds very heroic. Let me tell you one thing that people love better than a hero: a martyr. The only way to survive in this life is to rest in the shadows of the gray area between good and evil—either absolute will get you nowhere," Deadpool started to do the same. Nathan had never, he felt, understood someone so much as he did Deadpool right then, in that moment. Though he was his prisoner, and he hated hit with a sinful fire burning deep inside of him. He hated him for his ignorance and weakness, despite his insight and strength.

"I'm sorry…I have to believe that there is still point in being good. What can a man stand on, if not his convictions?" Nathan asked.

"You're a stronger man than I, Nathan. I wish that I could be like you but my circumstances do not permit it," he hung his head shamefully.

"That is what separates us, Deadpool: standing for what we believe despite our circumstances. I don't know what part of you you're missing or what you're trying to prove by destroying the MCA, but I can give you this one piece of truth that is true for all men regardless of race, religion or circumstance: there is nothing more rewarding than laying your head on your pillow at night, knowing you gave everything you had for what you believed and what you loved," the speech moved Nathan, he had a hard time believing it was coming from his mouth.

"I wish that I had met you earlier in my life, friend. You might have been able to convince me then…forget about me. Pretend you never knew me, it will do you good," and with that, Deadpool walked out of the compartment, leaving Nathan alone.

_Not alone_…he thought to himself, remembering the one thing that he still held onto, when all else failed him.

_God, I need you. Rescue me_…


	3. Experiment

Nathan stood in the white room, shirtless and barefoot, dressed in the new clothes that the MCA had given him since he'd arrived at Sheol only a day and a half before. He wanted to rip them off simply because they were an accommodation from his enemy but the thought of running around naked was even less appealing than accepting their limited hospitality.

There was no longer radiation shining down on him, as there was wherever he'd gone thus far in Tartaros, the deepest part of Sheol. He was, as Deadpool had warned him, put into a medical experimentation program. Right now, he was put in a room with another mutant, one with powers similar to his. They took the radiation off and had instructed them to fight to the death—like animals.

He looked the man over. He was about thirty year old. The top of his head was bald but dark hair emerged from the sides and back of his head. He was quite possibly the hairiest man that Nathan had ever seen, his arms, chest, neck and back engulfed in dark, long, thick hair. He was ruddy and good-looking. The guy was ripped, his chest, shoulders and arms more massive than even Nathan's. He had no stretch marks, however. Under different circumstances, Nathan would've asked him for his secret. The man was supposed to have enhanced strength and speed too.

They were perfect strangers, not even knowing each other's name. It was appalling. Nathan would not kill an innocent man, a total stranger, and a fellow mutant.

The man looked him in the eyes, as if he were as scared and reluctant to fight as Nathan was.

"I'm not going to fight him!" Nathan screamed, knowing they could hear him from the intercoms in the room.

"You have no choice," a voice returned.

"I'm not fighting either! You can't make me!" the man protested, giving Nathan a reassuring nod.

"David McKnight, I would hate to have to hurt your sister Natalie and your little nephew all because you won't comply," Nathan watched tears of fear and anger instantly form in the man's eyes.

"And Nathan Henson, how would you like to have to write out your parents' obituaries and epitaphs right now? Or how about your mutant girlfriend, Lindsey Basden?" Nathan winced at his parents and had to choke back bile at the thought of them doing anything to hurt his beloved.

"You do that, and you'll get _nothing_ out of me!" Nathan assured.

"What loss is it to us? We have dozens of mutants in line to take your place in this project. The same goes for you, Mr. McKnight. Now gentlemen, I'm sure that you can see that unless you comply, you're at much more to lose than we are. We'll say it one more time, fight each other!" the voice echoed through the room. Nathan looked over at the man, seeing a mirror image as tears fell from his eyes. Nathan wiped his away.

"I'm sorry," was all that man could manage. "We have to," he added.

"I know," Nathan replied. And so, it began. Nathan tackled the man to the ground in a flash and began flailing his fists into his chest and face. The man retaliated with a punch dealt squarely to Nathan's face, sending him flying up against the wall behind him. He bounced like a wrecking ball off of the cement, feeling it give way under his mass.

The fight was still on, David, pinning him in a corner began an onslaught of punches, some of which Nathan was able to block and some of which he was not. The blows were powerful enough to bruise his already aching ribs. David was as strong or stronger than Nathan was, that much was for sure. He seemed to be just as fast as well. They were evenly matched, not a wonder that they'd been pitted against each other. It was likely that the survivor would endure more torture through _earning_ the right to be experimented on than the one who fell.

Still, survival instincts kicked in and Nathan fought back, with the fury of an animal. He lashed out, dealing blow after wicked blow to his opponent, without reserve or retreat. For every blow that Nathan dealt, he took an equal or greater blow in return. Soon blood flowed freely from his nose and mouth. David didn't look too much better than Nathan felt.

It was clear that neither of them had any kind of formal combat training, as they were merely brawling, undisciplined and reckless. Though they were men fighting to protect that which was most dear to them, they were animals, fighting for dominion.

David pinned Nathan down and squeezed his throat, attempting to choke the life out of him. Nathan tried to pry the hands from his neck, gasping for air he could not get. He knew that he'd have to act against instinct in order to free himself. He rolled his legs backward and wrapped them around David's head, flinging him to the ground. Now Nathan was on top, pummeling with all the strength he had in his body. David took blow after blow to the chest and face, unable to defend himself any longer.

_Nathan stop! You're gonna kill him!_

_They're gonna kill Lindsey!_

_That doesn't give you the right!_

He held David up ready to bring his fist down in one finishing blow. David looked at him, tears in his bloodshot eyes.

"Do it," he pleaded through a bloody mouth. "At least my family will be safe."

_Just because one would be so arrogant to think they get to decide when someone's life should be over, doesn't mean that you have to be._

_What about those MCA? I killed them without thinking twice!_

_That was self-defense…this is different. Look at him; he's a man: flesh, bones, heart and soul…just like you._

_What about Lindsey? What if they kill her?_

_You are in no place to decide whose life is worth more or less than another. Do what is right, no matter how painful the consequences_.

Nathan screamed at the top of his lungs, trying to fight the conflict in his mind. Finally he let David go, his decision made.

"Mr. Henson, finish him off!" the voice sternly commanded.

"NO!" Nathan screamed through tears. What had he done? He had actually considered taking this man's life. Had he fallen so far? Was one life better than another? Was David worth killing for the thought that Lindsey might be spared death?

"We will kill her, Nathan, make no mistake. Last chance," the voice reasoned.

"I could no more kill my brother than I could kill myself," Nathan snapped, firm in his decision.

"Very well, you've sealed her fate. I'm sending the order to have her executed," the voice replied coldly.

"Then you can't hurt me anymore," Nathan muttered. He picked David up and held him in his arms, holding him close and looking him over.

"Thank you," his eyes were swelling shut from being punched so hard.

"Don't thank me; I did the right thing."

"I can't say that I'd have done the same for you," David admitted.

"That's okay. There's a reason why I beat you then," Nathan assured, tears free falling again.

"I wish we could've met under better circumstances," David whispered, gripping Nathan's arms affectionately.

"Me too, David…me too…" soon a green gas filled the room. Nathan tried to hold his breath as long as he could. He couldn't be certain as to whether it was sleeping gas or deadly nerve gas. It didn't matter too much to him anymore. Death would've been a welcomed relief.

He breathed in a lungful of the gas and felt his body go limp as his vision blurred. He hoped that he'd wake up in Heaven and all of his suffering would be over.

* * *

Nathan opened his eyes to his Hell of existence and felt the stinging pain from the fight he'd had. He couldn't be sure how long he'd been out, and he didn't care to know. He was on the urge of giving up, breaking down and throwing in the towel. He had to hold out hope that he'd one day be free from Hell, free to roam the Earth freely again. He was upright, strapped to a table. Once again he could feel that that strength in his body had returned. He tried to break free from the restraints but discovered them too powerful.

"That's adamantium, an indestructible metal. Even someone as strong as you cannot break it," came a voice from nowhere. He wasted no more energy trying to break free. He had no reason to believe the man was lying.

"Let's see his proficiencies," ordered another voice from nowhere. He couldn't see because of the bright and blinding light shining down on him, shielding whoever was in the room with him.

"The protein that his body produces accelerates his muscle growth at an evolutionary rate. It makes his skin, bones and muscles resistant to bullets," the first voice explained as a gun went off. Nathan screamed in pain as the bullets bounced off of his chest, which was now exploding in pain.

"It still injures him," the second voice observed.

"Yes. He can even resist the more powerful rounds of the fifty caliber," the first voice said. Another shot rang out in the room and more pain followed. "As you can see, it only bruises him. However severe, it still does not kill him. I believe this one was tremendous potential."

"Do you think his body will be able to endure the fusion?" the man asked.

"At the very least, the healing factor can be put into his genetic makeup on an uncultivated level."

"Will it affect his primary mutation?"

"My hypothesis is that it will. Most of the subjects have shown a decrease in proficiency in their primary mutation at the sacrifice of the integrated secondary. Over time, his body will learn to develop both. It's a small sacrifice, sir. He has only tapped the vastness of his primary mutation. A healing factor and perhaps some adamantium implants will improve him greatly," the first voice assured.

"Okay, you don't have to convince me any further. Before you start the gene splicing, I want a report of his resistance and immunity to poisons and other elements," the second voice demanded.

"As you wish, sir," the first voice assured submissively.

* * *

Days quickly passed into weeks for Nathan as he endured torture after torture. He was exposed to electricity, fire, ice, radiation, poison and hypnosis. Every angle of his body was checked, measured, probed and sometimes violated. They took samples of his blood and semen against his will. They tried to force him to fight more mutants like him and some that were not like him at all. He always refused to fight them. They'd run out of threats to threaten with. According to the MCA they'd killed Lindsey, his parents, his brother, sister, her husband, their child, and every friend they could dig up in his file. It appeared as if they were simply going down a list.

When other mutants would try to fight him, he would defend himself and knock them unconscious. He would never kill them, however. They put him in a room with David again. His wounds since their last fight had healed up nicely. Instead of fighting, they shook hands and had a nice, cordial chat before they gassed them both again.

* * *

"Mr. Henson, you are quite a rare specimen indeed. You have been able to endure every kind of malicious attack we've thrown at you. You've developed a resistance to all of the elements through your mutation. I know that you don't enjoy being here," a man said to him from the other side of his cell. There was radiation that suppressed his powers, keeping him from bursting through the bulletproof glass.

"That's the understatement of the century," Nathan never gave them the satisfaction of looking them in the eye. It wasn't because he was intimidated but because they meant nothing to him. They were not people, but monstrous oppressors with needles and guns.

"There is a way that you can leave, you know—a way that you can earn your freedom," the man began to propose. "Are you interested?"  
"Anything is better than this," Nathan spat.

"You have been chosen as our next candidate for Weapon X because of your strength, speed, and aptitude for survival. We're going to be integrating another mutation into you genetic makeup, making you a super soldier. From there you will undergo intense training from one of our successful projects," the man sneered.

"Deadpool," Nathan said out loud.

"Ah, I see that he introduced himself to you—very good. Indeed, Deadpool will be training you for combat. You'll learn to pilot helicopters, jets and planes, to use firearms and other weapons in combat. I believe that if you cooperate, you will become our best specimen yet," the man said.

"More time to be your lab rat eh? What's this other mutation you're gonna give me?"

"Advanced healing powers. Your body is very invulnerable as it is, but in the case that you are injured, you'll be able to heal yourself rapidly," the man replied.

"Like Deadpool?"

"I have reason to believe that you will not be that proficient in it, but then again you won't have to be. The healing powers will make you a god, an epiphany from the shadows of what you once were," the man's smile grew across his face.

"Do you actually talk like that? 'An epiphany from the shadows of what you once were?'"

"Apparently, I do," the man snapped defensively.

"What happens after I'm all evolved and trained? Then what?"

"We'll jump that hurdle when we come to it. In the meantime, get some rest. You're going to be having a visitor in a few days," the man walked away without saying goodbye. The only person that would ever be able to come and visit Nathan, who even knew that he was in Sheol, was Deadpool.

_I'll be seeing you soon, friend_.

Nathan spent the next three days bored out of his mind. They didn't give him a TV or books like with prisons for humans. He didn't even get books or paper and pen to write with. All he had were meals and his thoughts on days when they weren't treating him like a lab rat. He had never attempted escape from Sheol. He knew that even if he were able to kill the guards that transported him from one place to the other, he'd never make it out alive. Abaddon, the Destroyer was always watching him, monitoring his behavior and ready to execute him if he did the slightest thing out of order.

He had lost count at two months that he'd been locked away in Sheol. He guessed around two and half but it was only a guess. How long would he wait in the depths of the earth for his redemption? For salvation? Had God abandoned him? Was he left alone to suffer the tortures of Hell? He wondered what state the world was in at that moment. The MCA told him constantly that the 'mutant vermin' where being eradicated more and more every day. He couldn't trust their word though; they would tell him anything to cause him more pain.

"Mr. Henson, your visitor is here," a female agent said through the intercom. To his expectation, Deadpool walked up to the glass, his face hooded in his dark crimson outfit. Though he couldn't see his face, he could tell that he was sad by the way his mask rested on his brow.

"At last, we meet again, Nathan," Deadpool hissed through the intercom. No doubt he wouldn't come inside to talk to Nathan.

"Too long, friend," Nathan relented. The thought of seeing Deadpool again had, at first, fueled his anger, but now he was glad to see a familiar face again.

"Indeed. I am glad to see that they are treating you well," he sneered. Nathan didn't appreciate the humor, but it was his way.

"I'm still alive, if that's what you mean."

"Yes. As I'd hoped, you're going to be used as the next Weapon X project. Once your trained you can begin work to earn your freedom."

"Work doing what?"

"As a Retriever, perhaps," Deadpool suggested.

"You mean working as the MCA's lapdog? No thanks," Nathan said, suddenly filling in the blanks of the MCA's new proposal. They were going to turn him into a killer to further their cause—not something Nathan was going to accept.

"It's the only way to get out of this place," Deadpool's gaze was fixed on Nathan. He stressed the words just enough for Nathan to get the hint. Obviously, they couldn't talk freely about things because they were being so closely monitored, but the implication was clear. Once Nathan was out of Sheol, he was free to run—at his own risk of course. The point was that he would once again have prerogative in his own life again.

"What's going to happen to me?"

"They are going to fuse some of Wolverine's DNA with yours so that you'll develop his healing abilities. From there, I will train you in combat tactics."

"Who's Wolverine?"

"A mutant project involved in the Weapon X program. He's dead now but they still use their limited supply of his tissue samples to attempt more cases like his. They say that you've shown determination, resolve and a natural tendency to survive, everything that they're looking for."

"If I would've known, I might not have tried so hard," Nathan replied bitterly.

"Don't say that, my friend. You're going to get a second chance to be free."

"A second chance under their authority…that's no freedom at all."

"It's a start…" Deadpool trailed off, clearly trying to be careful what he said concerning certain matters. "Get some sleep, you have a big couple of days ahead of you starting tomorrow."

The next few days were some of the worst pain that Nathan had ever endured. They took endless samples of his blood, draining him of his strength. They gave him all kinds of injections and radiation treatments. He shook and had seizures every so often. He couldn't hold down any food; he couldn't even keep down water. They had to keep him connected to an IV to keep alive.

Soon the seizures stopped. He was able to choke down soft foods without vomiting them up. He was able to get up and move around again. The radiation treatments and injections stopped. They were treating him like a king now. They let him rest and relax almost uninterrupted. He felt as if he were permanently affected however. After a week he still was not back to his full strength. He didn't know if he'd ever be the same after what they'd done to him.

"Okay, Mr. Henson. If we were successful, this should prove to be quite interesting. Please do not struggle," before Nathan could object a man lashed out with a sharp knife leaving a long, straight gash. He winced and looked down. Before, such a gash might not have even broken the skin. Now, it was bleeding profusely. He looked down when he felt the wound tingle strangely. The cut began to close up and heal immediately. Their experiments had worked. Soon there was only a bloodstain on his arm where the gash had once been. The wound had not even left a scar.

"Astounding. As we predicted, you have taken quite well to the newly integrated mutation. Soon, you will redevelop the strength and speed that you've lost in result to this. Your healing factor will evolve over time as well," the man in the lab coat turned and looked at his team. Nathan wanted to lash out and make a break for it, but he knew that Abaddon would destroy him before he made it to the surface.

"Congratulations on your success, Doctor," a woman scientist beamed. Nathan looked them over, wanted to destroy them for treating him as little more than a science project. Giving him grades of success as if he had no mind, emotions or soul of his own. Someday, some way, he was going to show the world the truth about what mutants were—people, oppressed by the bigotry and hatred holed up in the hearts of those with power. How he longed for the day when he'd be more than an experiment.

The days ahead of him, his training with Deadpool he looked forward to more than ever. Soon, he'd be trained to be as deadly as he was. When that day came, when Nathan would be able to do something about those who would dare oppress those less powerful than they simply because they had the means to, they wouldn't want to cross him. If they did, he would likely be the last thing that they got to see on this earth.

_God, I see the path before me as clear as day. I will use what you've given me to help others, to save people from the tortures that I have endured. Thank you for your testing, for it makes me to persevere._

_One day, Caleb, I will do something to change the world, as you once dreamed to do. I will not let deaths like yours be in vain._

_Lindsey, if you're alive, I will find you. If they have indeed taken you from me forever, I will avenge your death with all the power that I possess. _

_The Day of Atonement is coming, and they will pay for their sins._


	4. Apprentice

Nathan took a deep breath of fresh air. It was the first that he'd tasted since the day he'd arrived at Sheol. He was in a training facility, located only a few miles away from the prison. Guards surrounded him, and each of them was armed with anti-mutant weaponry specifically designed to kill him. If he tried to run, he would surely fail. There was no use in attempting it. The temptation was almost more than he could bear, the way the sun hit his skin enticed him to run away, taking hold of his freedom.

"Soon, my friend. The quicker that you learn, the quicker that you'll be free," Deadpool encouraged, as if he could read Nathan's thoughts.

"I'll do whatever you tell me to," Nathan assured him. He was willing to do whatever it took in order to possess the freedom that called out to him from afar.

"First thing, don't try to escape; the guards will kill you if you try. Second, follow my instruction without question. Third, don't talk about anything you wouldn't want the MCA to know about you while you're here. It's no doubt that they are listening in on us," Deadpool explained. It was no doubt that he was taking an amazing risk saying it the way he had. He wouldn't have said it if he didn't know he could get away with it; Deadpool was smarter than that.

"Gotcha."

"As long as you keep those things in mind, you'll do just fine. Now, we're going start immediately. Get warmed up and take a hundred laps around the yard," Deadpool no doubt knew that he could do such a feat in a matter of minutes, even with his diminished powers. Nathan stretched a little and took off around the yard. He was careful to keep count of how many times he went around, though he could not keep his thoughts from wandering around.

He thought of Lindsey's face, her eyes, and her smile. He thought of what it would be like to hold her in his arms again. He wondered if she knew anything about him and where he was. Did she think he was dead? Did she know he was imprisoned? Was she okay? It was her face, sweet and smiling, that kept his legs pumping even when they ached and bulged. He had noticed that now, with his new healing powers, he was able to avoid the stretch marks altogether. He was glad for it too. It was one his greatest peeves with his powers.

His strength and speed were still much higher than that of a normal human being, but he felt he'd never reach his potential since the integrated healing factor. He didn't mind it so much now. There were certain benefits to being able to heal yourself at will. Either way, he had a goal in mind at the moment. He was completely focused on getting himself fit for battle. With Deadpool's help, he knew that he'd achieve the greatness he needed.

"Nathan! What are you doing? You're at one-oh-nine!" Deadpool called from the center of the yard.

_Dang it_.

He'd lost count in his thoughts, running like a madman around the yard. He had not even broken a sweat. As he jogged over to Deadpool he could feel his whole body tingle with the healing factor. His muscles grew, and there were no stretch marks. He was also able to keep the same shape and tone he'd had before.

_Nice_.

"Okay, we're going to start with hand-to-hand combat. It is the basis of all combat. You will need to be able to defend yourself when you have nothing else but your bare hands. Pay attention, this is the most important part of your training."

Nathan listened intently and mimicked the stances that Deadpool taught him. It seemed like it was so basic knowledge, teaching him how to correctly throw a jab, a hook, or an uppercut. He taught him how to snap his leg and how to position his foot to kick most proficiently.

"You're going to learn more than just judo and tae kwon do, Nathan. We're also going to have to develop your sense of balance and make you a little bit more limber. You're going to be taking gymnastics and ballet for that."

"Whatever it takes…wait…ballet?"

"Yes. It may seem trivial but you must have complete control of your body. As much as you may not like it now, you'll thank me in the future when you're able to fight on a beam an inch thick and your enemies cannot pursue you."

"I'm sure I will."

"Now, we spar. The best way for you to learn is to be forced to apply it. Let's go," he put his fists up.

"You're gonna slaughter me," Nathan objected. In return he received a quick jab to the chin.

"Rule number one, always keep your guard up," Deadpool sneered striking out again. Nathan blocked the punches away only to receive a swift kick to the ribs. He winced in pain. He was not as resilient as he used to be.

"The hand is quicker than the eye…so you should be watching the foot," Deadpool joked. Nathan lashed out, trying to give him a jab. He figured that Deadpool would block it so he kept attacking, careful to keep his form and poise. He didn't land a single blow, even when he snuck in a kick.

"Good. You're keeping your focus, that's good."

"I can't hit you," Nathan complained, careful to keep his guard up.

"You will be able to in time, friend," they continued to spar for a while and Deadpool went on to teach him some basic throws, blocks, sweeps and counter attacks.

* * *

"This is a .45 combat pistol. This is your friend. The first thing that you're going to learn about guns is how to take care of them, disassemble them and reassemble them. Then we'll work on how to load them, fire them and whatnot," Deadpool explained handing Nathan one of his twin pistols from his holsters. They spent the rest of the day with just the pistol. Deadpool even let Nathan fire off an entire magazine at a target. He was a horrible shot, but Deadpool promised that with time he'd get better.

Everyday he began with an ever-increasing amount of laps to do in an ever-decreasing amount of time. Deadpool taught him ever kata he knew, from various fighting styles, they did yoga, Pilates, gymnastics and ballet to train him in balance. They sparred for hours everyday, and reviewed the basics of punching, kicking, blocking, stance, throws, and holds. It all seemed routine and monotonous to Nathan but he could see that he was improving.

They continued to train for months. Deadpool took him out into the forest and taught him how to track animals and humans. He had Nathan hunt animals for food to eat every evening to improve this skill. He taught him everything he knew about explosives, had him do three hundred hours of flight simulators. He didn't risk tempting him with the real thing, because it would be too easy for him to escape.

He studied basic anatomy of the human body to locate the best targets to shoot, stab or slice that would guarantee a kill. He learned about the jugular vein and the femoral artery, their location and how to sever them. Nathan realized that he was being turned into a killing machine, just like Deadpool. He was teaching him everything that he knew about survival, fighting and killing.

Nathan had learned to use throwing weapons such as darts, shurikens and throwing knives. He learned to fight with swords, knives, staves, and many other such handheld weapons.

"You should choose one that you like the best and stick to it. I'm giving you the basics of all of them so that you can make your choice. My personal favorite are these twin bokken swords," Deadpool unsheathed his swords and twirled them around, brandishing them with skill.

"I like the twin pistols," Nathan didn't too much care for using swords and knives. He liked to keep his hands free to reach for a gun or grenade. He explained this to Deadpool, trying not to sound as if he were ignoring his advice.

"Very well. You are most proficient and confident in your hand-to-hand fighting skills anyway. I would still suggest you carry some sort of backup weapon, something easily concealed, just in case," Deadpool shrugged, a gesture he'd never seen the man do. It was the first sign that he'd ever no known something for sure. They didn't have too many conversations during their training. They maintained a strict, student-teacher relationship and were careful not to break it. Still, Nathan had grown fond of the man over time. He felt as if he'd earned a close friend in Deadpool.

"I'll use this," Nathan reached for the butterfly knife on the table. He flicked it around, opened it, did a few strikes to a mock enemy and then put it back in his boot.

"Good choice. I carry one of those as well," Deadpool reached for a strap on the inside of his thigh. He pulled out his own silver-handled butterfly knife. It looked and sounded as if it had made Deadpool feel better, and Nathan was glad for it.

He wasn't looking forward to doing any kind of work with Deadpool, as he often spoke of. He'd even said the word 'partners' once. Deadpool had always said that he was a solo operative. Nathan must've shown quite some promise if he was willing to take a partner in under his wing.

"It's time," Deadpool said one morning without warning. Nathan was completely caught off guard.

"Time for what?"

"It's time to put your training into a real test. I've taught you everything that I can in the months that we've spent together. There is little more that you can learn from me."

"Does this mean that I'm free?"

"Hardly. We are all slaves to someone—in some way or another…"

"What do you have in mind?"

"The MCA have been tracking a dangerous mutant for some time. He is an assassin, like us. He will work for anyone for the right price."

"We're supposed to kill him?"

"No, we're supposed to recruit him."

"Sounds harmless enough."

"I don't think that the Hybrid is going to go quietly, if you know what I mean. He's considered by some to be the most dangerous man alive—the deadliest assassin of all time," Deadpool's voice quivered a little as he spoke his name. Nathan had never heard it before. Although, he hadn't really hung around in circles where he would hear the name of deadly assassins before.

"Why do they call him the Hybrid?"

"He calls himself that claiming to be part man, part weapon. They aren't exactly sure what his powers are, though he appears to have increased strength and speed, they think he might have much more than that," Deadpool began.

"Like what?"

"As he gathers momentum, storing enough of it in his body, he can take flight, defy the laws of physics and gravity. He's a weapons specialist and skilled martial artist. He's killed some pretty hard-to-kill people and walked away without a scratch."

"Should we be afraid of him?"

"Any man who can take on an entire Columbian drug lord's militia and walk away unscathed deserves some kind of reverence. That was close to a hundred men—with a blade."

"Wow, he is something, then. So if we find this guy and recruit him—then are we free to go?"

"Of course not. We're never free from the MCA's grasp. These jobs are our freedom, Nathan," Deadpool admitted.

"That's not good enough for me. I need to know that I'm working for something more, Deadpool. I need to know that all this time and effort has been worth something," Nathan started to object. Deadpool leaned in and whispered to him as quickly as he could manage.

"I'm sorry Nathan…that's just the way things are. This is the lot we've been thrown in life. There's nothing more that we can do about it."

"When do we leave?" Nathan asked bitterly.

"Tomorrow—first thing. Have you ever been to Puerto Rico?" Deadpool asked. His tone of voice gave away that he was smiling. Nathan could see his brow rise under his mask. It occurred to Nathan that he had never seen his friend's face.

"Deadpool, how come you wear that mask?"

"My identity is a precious thing. Even if I took it off and showed you what I looked like, it would not be my true face. I've had enough surgeries that I've had several faces. My face would probably be different the next time that you saw me as well. There's no point in revealing my face, for I don't have one of my own," Deadpool explained.

"I understand. I hope that you don't expect me to do that," Nathan hoped he wouldn't offend him.

"No, as long as you're careful not to be captured or seen, there would never be any need for you to do such a thing. Take the day off. I want you to be relaxed and rested for your first day on the job," he changed the subject. He gave Nathan a pat on the shoulder, another first-time gesture. Nathan watched as Deadpool walked away. He was in anticipation of tomorrow, unsure as to what it would bring.

_Maybe a chance to escape_?

He could only be so lucky. Maybe the Hybrid would have sympathy on them. Maybe he would give them some sort of safe passage. Maybe he would help them kill their MCA escort that would no doubt be coming along just in case either of them decided to flee. Nathan was hopeful, though preparing himself for the worst. He might have to fight and kill the Hybrid, which apparently would be no easy task.

He had confidence in his abilities, and in Deadpool's. Together, he was sure that they were unbeatable.

_So why don't you and Deadpool take on the MCA escort—hijack the plane? Maybe he's already thought of that and he just can't speak it out loud. He'll give a signal if that's the plan_.

A thousand thoughts raced through his head until they landed on his long-lost beloved once again.

_Lindsey…I miss you so much_…

It had been so long since he'd seen her face or heard her voice. It had been such a long time since they'd last seen each other. He was not allowed to make contact with anyone while he was training—more MCA's rule than Deadpool's. Although he couldn't see Deadpool thinking it was okay to make phone calls all over the place.

Maybe when he was in Puerto Rico, he'd have the chance to call her and touch base—let her know he was alive—make sure she was still alive. It was the most torturous thing in world, not knowing how she was. It was the hope of one day seeing her again that kept him going. It was the drive inside, his determination and his purpose. He knew that if he ever got the chance to see her again, he would never be apart from her. Now that he had the ability to protect them, they'd live anywhere they wanted and do anything they wanted. He welcomed anyone who would try to stop them with his .45.

_Someday, Lin…someday…

* * *

_

No opportunity had presented itself for he and Deadpool to hijack the plane. He knew that something was up. Deadpool had given him a glance or two that said that something was up. They were under anti mutant radiation the entirety of the trip for the sake of the MCA's safety—a wise move on their part. All of their equipment and weapons were stored beneath the plane, out of their reach—another wise move. They were making certain that they had no room for insurrection.

It didn't seem like they'd be having a formal meeting with Hybrid, as Nathan had originally anticipated. When they briefed them on their mission, they were told to sneak into his house, detain and question the Hybrid, though not to kill him unless absolutely necessary. Nathan knew that it was when they were in reach of Hybrid that their plans would change. They would have one shot to take in hopes that Hybrid would show them some mercy.

_What if Deadpool's not thinking along these lines at all? Maybe he just knows that you're gonna try something. Maybe he wants you to stay with the MCA so he'll have a partner_.

The whole thing was driving Nathan insane. They were in a safe house only a mile from the Hybrid's hotel condo. They were going to be sending he and Deadpool in to 'retrieve' him. They would go in by plane, parachuting onto the roof. From there they would take the ventilation shafts to the floor that he was on and apprehend him. It seemed so in-and-out, so routine, but everyone shuddered when someone so much as said the word 'hybrid.'

_Is he really that dangerous. Surely they have faith that Deadpool and I can take him. He can't be that powerful_.

"You've never jumped out of a plane before?" Deadpool asked him with disbelief.

"No, sorry."

"What did you do for fun as a teenager?"

"Watch movies," Nathan offered, nervously looking at the ground below. The cars were merely specks from where he was. They only had one shot to jump out and land on the roof of the hotel. Nathan was going to do it one way or the other, but it didn't make any less frightening.

"Okay, just jump, count to ten and pull the chute. Don't hesitate either. When it comes time to jump out of the plane you had better do it when you're supposed to or you'll miss your mark," Deadpool warned.

"Okay," Nathan gulped. It was time to jump sooner than later. They decided that Nathan would jump first so that Deadpool could push him out if he hesitated for even a second. He stepped up to the edge of the plane, the wind whipping in his face. He had made up his mind that he wasn't going to hesitate. If wasn't afraid to take on the world's most dangerous assassin, he was not afraid to jump out of an airplane.

"Now!" the navigator yelled. Nathan jumped out and began free falling; it was the most liberating experience he'd ever felt. He made sure to count as he went down, as Deadpool had taught him. It was the freest he'd felt even before he'd ever been a prisoner. Free falling was such a liberating experience, he wasn't sure that he was ever prisoner at all. Maybe it had all just been a bad dream until now.

_I could only be so lucky_.

He pulled his chute and descended down onto the roof, landing rougher than he thought he would. Deadpool landed only seconds after him and they began to unhook their harnesses. It was a good thing that the roof was flat; Nathan could not imagine landing on a roof that was peaked or pointed.

They began to unload the equipment they needed to scale the building. They were already armed to the teeth with the finest gear. Deadpool had his twin bokken swords, Colt pistols, grenades and a sawed off shotgun. Nathan carried his own set of pistols, assorted grenades, a butterfly knife and shotgun of his own. Whoever this Hybrid character was, he would have to put up a really good fight to stand a chance against the two of them.

They were going to use a rope to swing down onto the floor where he was. They were going to use a fulcrum swing, jumping out as far as they could with the robe and using the momentum to put them onto the balcony. According to the MCA surveillance, the balcony doors were open and they would be able to rush into the room. Hybrid owned an entire half of a floor on the hotel, turning it into his own condo. It was supposed to be his safe house. Ironic, Nathan thought, that it would be the very place that he was going to get captured.

With an unspoken command, Deadpool gave him a nod to set up the fulcrum swing. Nathan assembled the grappling device for two people and strapped the repelling cord to his harness. He handed Deadpool his own rope. They backed up to the middle part of the roof.

"You ready, friend?" Deadpool asked him.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Nathan replied curtly.

"Let's go," and they ran for the edge of the roof, jumping off the roof and out into the warm evening air. Once again, Nathan made a descent, free falling through the air, free again until his robe caught slack again. He began to swing towards the balcony, Deadpool perfectly parallel to him. They had made exact measurements as to how much rope they would need. They had to be careful not to land on the wrong floor or hit a window—neither would be very good.

Nathan lifted his feet as he cleared the balcony they'd aimed for. Upon landed he unhooked himself and continued his stride into the room. Diving and rolling, he pulled out one of his pistols from its holster, scanning the room for any movement. Deadpool was right behind him, unsheathing his swords.

A rush of adrenaline and excitement suddenly overtook Nathan, in mere seconds he would be engaged in battle with the deadliest assassin alive, the Hybrid. Honestly, Nathan couldn't wait to try out his skills on him. Deadpool had trained him well and he was confident in his abilities, no matter what the rumors of their foe. They went from room to room, ready to fire or slash anything that moved. They split up down the hall and then regroup in a living room, coming in from different entrances. There he was, sitting on the couch, sharpening one of his many bladed weapons laid out before him, the Hybrid.

Nathan kept his pistol trained on the back of his head as Deadpool entered from a place which he could be seen.

"Deadpool, long time no see," he spoke, looking up from his work, calmly and coolly—as if he had been expecting him.

"It's been a while, Hybrid," Deadpool hissed in retaliation.

"And who's your friend?" The Hybrid turned to look at him and the surprise on his face was equal only to the feeling of Nathan's heart dropping into his stomach. He blinked and looked again at him in disbelief.

"Nathan! It looks like you've seen a ghost," the Hybrid sneered. There was no way…it couldn't be. He'd hadn't been seen since years before the earthquake. How? He was dead, everyone saw the papers.

"Garrett?"

"That name's dead to me now, but yeah, it's me," he replied.

"You two know each other?" Deadpool exclaimed with surprise.

"In another life…now I know that you've either come here to kill me or to retrieve me, neither of which I'm about to let happen so let's get to it, shall we?" Garrett, the Hybrid leapt up from his spot on the couch, spear in hand. He threw something shiny and metallic at Nathan knocking his pistol from his hand. He brandished his spear and stood, ready for either of them to make a move.


	5. Assassin

Nathan watched as, in one fluid motion, Hybrid twirled through the air, keeping the spear between him and Deadpool at all times. The metallic clang of their swords colliding preceded a shower of sparks as the two warriors began. Hybrid jabbed again and again with his spear, faster than Nathan thought possible. Deadpool twirled his swords, parrying each blow away from his head as the Hybrid advanced on him, forcing him towards the windows.

Nathan pulled out his remaining pistol and took aim. Faster than a whisper, as if he had been watching him the entire time he fought Deadpool, Hybrid kicked off of the wall, the floor and finally ran along the ceiling towards Nathan. Every round he fired punched into the wall or ricocheted off of the hard marble floors, missing their mark. A slash from the pole of the spear caught Nathan in his hand, knocking his last pistol from his hand.

Hybrid attempted another slash to Nathan's face. He was faster than he'd expected but not fast enough. Nathan ducked his head and caught the spear by the pole and tried to jerk it out of his hands—to no avail. The Hybrid moved with the motion, keeping a grip on his weapon. He pivoted his body around, keeping hold of the spear with both hands. Nathan tried to grab the spear with both hands but by the time he had, he wished he hadn't. His feet came off of the ground and he found himself propelling towards the other side of the room face first. The Hybrid had flipped him over his shoulder using the spear to vault him across the room. Nathan tried to turn so that his feet would hit the wall but he wasn't quick enough. Upside down, he went into the wall back first. He landed hard on his head anyway.

He heard the metallic clangs of Deadpool making a second attempt at Hybrid. Nathan tried to focus but his head was spinning. As much as he could tell, Deadpool was gaining the upper hand in the battle, forcing Hybrid to retreat. It was as if he were watching some sort of choreographed martial arts movie. They turned, struck, parried, dodged, jumped and ducked as if they'd practice this battle a thousand times. Nathan caught sight of his pistol on the floor and was to his feet in a flash. He dove for it, snatched it, rolled, took aim and got ready to fire.

He didn't have a clear shot. He took the risk of hitting Deadpool if he fired now. He considered it for a split second, thinking that even if he hit Deadpool he'd survive because of his healing factor. He'd wondered if Deadpool could ever be killed and he'd come to two conclusions as to how. The first was to sever the connection his brain to the rest of his body so that his healing factor wouldn't kick in at all and the second one was to incinerate him entirely so that there was nothing to regenerate.

Apparently, Hybrid had known Deadpool from before. Nathan wasn't sure what exactly was going on, but he had a pretty good idea as he watched Hybrid strike with his spear. It became clear when he performed a move that Deadpool had taught him.

_Hybrid was one of his pupils_!

Just as a shot cleared Hybrid began bouncing noiselessly off of the walls again. He put his spear under a marble table and lifted it effortlessly in the air. He turned it up on its side and strafed behind it so that it acted as a human shield. Before the table landed on the ground again, Nathan saw it flying towards him. He fired two rounds and punched it with his free hand, shattering it into millions of pieces. Hybrid and Deadpool were already engaged in battle again, their blades clanging and sparking together in a ruckus. Nathan fired rounds at Hybrid, all of them missed crashing into the window behind him. The glass exploded on the balcony floor.

Nathan was about reload and start again but the MCA burst in through the door and through the balcony.

_Here come the reinforcements_…Nathan thought bitterly. His hopes for freedom had skyrocketed when he discovered that he knew the Hybrid from when he'd come to youth group with his brother. They had plummeted to the ground when he'd begun to attack them relentlessly.

Deadpool dealt him a kick to the stomach and he went flying backwards. He used his spear to stab vertically into the ceiling, swing around it like a gymnast and give Deadpool a refund kick to the chest. Deadpool disappeared as he flew down a hallway.

The booming rattle of automatic weapons being fired resounded and resonated in the living room of the condo. Contrary to what must've been instinctive, Hybrid kicked off of the wall and dove straight towards the onslaught the MCA was serving him. He twirled, pivoted and dodged in air unnaturally, as if he were changing the effects of gravity so that the bullets sailed harmlessly past him. He kicked off of the floor and the ceiling before his spear came down on the agent closest to him. Nathan could only watch in horror as the lance blade divided his perfectly in half.

He flipped his staff around, spraying blood in several directions and hit the guard in the side, before he even had the opportunity to fall to the ground. As if he'd hit the man with a wrecking ball, he flew into the wall and out of Hybrid's way. The remaining three before him fired simultaneously at him, from a mere five feet away—impossible to miss from such short range. Nathan expected bullets to tear through his flesh and kill him. He knelt to the ground and held out his hand—and the bullets changed their path and went around him. It was as if he made them ricochet and go everywhere. They went on a complete semi circle arc around him and continued their path behind him—to the MCA agents coming through the balcony. He watched as they tried to move dive out of the way, frantic for their lives but the bullets tore through their vests, sending cherry red sprays of blood into the air.

The shooters' magazines eventually ran empty. Hybrid looked up at them and smiled, spear poised to kill. One ejected the magazine from the gun and reached for another one but he was dead before the magazine hit the floor. Hybrid whipped his spear horizontally in the air, catching the agent in the throat. He turned his swear and attempted a downward attack on the second agent, who blocked with his gun. Once, twice, a third time he was able to parry the attack as the third agent fumbled for another magazine in a stupor.

With an ornate twirl, Hybrid faked a horizontal attack but jabbed the end of his spear into the man's foot. The man screamed in pain and the Hybrid abandoned his weapon to take care of the last shooter, who had reloaded by now. He used his hand to point the weapon towards the man with the spear in his foot. The nervous shooter desperately pulled the trigger sending bullets barraging into his comrade. Hybrid jumped, while still keeping a tight hold on the man's rifle and arm, wrapped his legs around the man's neck, tugged him to the ground and snapped it like a twig.

_He doesn't have that spear to fight now_! Nathan thought, taking a chance. He leapt at him with all of the strength and speed in him. He punched him squarely in the chin but it was like hitting nothing. His punch had no impact on him as far as injury though he flew into the wall behind him. He kicked off of it and came flying back towards Nathan in a flurry of black. They engaged in hand-to-hand fighting and Nathan discovered that his speed was equally matched. He was still a little stronger than Hybrid—than Garrett.

He let his instincts take over as he mind fluttered from thought to thought. Garrett used to come to youth with his brother all the time, years ago. He stopped coming after a while and then he supposedly ran away from home, never to be seen again. They had found remains of his body in a city on the east coast, and he was said to be no more. Had he faked his death? Did anyone else know? How had he become the Hybrid, most feared and deadliest of all assassins? Who had he killed? Would he kill Nathan, though they had been friends? That answer seemed pretty apparent as he continued to punch and kick at him.

Nathan saw a window of opportunity in the fight, dealing him a horrible clout to the ribs, following by a successive jab and hook to the face, and finished off nicely with a kick to the gut, sending him tumbling to the floor. He couldn't waste any time, Nathan knew so he pursued him, ready to kill him where he lied. Hybrid had already made his way to his feet. He kicked a sofa at the corner of it and it flew at Nathan. Unable to anticipate such a random maneuver, the sofa smashed Nathan against the wall.

As he was lifting the sofa off of him so that he could get up a spear came through the cushions, missed his head by millimeters and penetrated the hard marble floor. Nathan summoned the strength in his arms and chest heaving the sofa off of him with his arms and legs, vaulting it off of him. The spear tore out of the floor and sent a puff of powdered stone in the air. As the sofa flew, Hybrid scaled it in midair, getting on the other side of it so that he did not also hit the wall. He dove forward towards Nathan and the fighting began again. He threw a jab, Nathan blocked. He gave him a series of punches to the gut and ribs doubling him over and pushing him back. Before Nathan could put up his guard, or react in anyway for that matter, Hybrid flip-kicked him in the chin. The next thing Nathan knew he was on the floor above them, crashing through drywall, metal piping, and marble. He landed on his back and stared at the ceiling, seeing stars.

He'd been dealt quite a wallop. He sat up, expecting to have to rush back into battle again. He looked at the whole from which he'd emerged. At the angle he was at, he could see that Hybrid and Deadpool were fighting again. For the best, Nathan figured. Those precious few seconds gave his healing factor time to rejuvenate his body. He lay still, letting his new mutation do its work. He concentrated so that the process would go as quickly as possible.

When he had regain enough energy to return to the fight he jumped to his feet and through the hole in the floor, back into the condo. Deadpool was slashing away at Hybrid but unable to hit him because of his uncanny swiftness. He was such a challenge of a fight because any part of the condo was terrain for him to tread on. He could run on the walls and even the ceiling with little effort, opening all kind of stance opportunity for him.

Nathan rushed to Deadpool's aid, trying to grab Hybrid. He easily evaded the attack and kicked him in the head sending him back the way he'd come. The distraction had been enough opportunity for Deadpool to sneak an attack in with one if his bokken swords. Hybrid took a quick look at his wound, and jumped away, attempting to retreat.

_Oh no you don't!_

Nathan reached out and grasped him by the heel. He swung him around, keeping his body low so that he would wreck into whatever stray furniture was in the living room. The crash and clutter was horrendous. Nathan let go of his heel and let him fly through the air and as expected, Hybrid came flying back towards him, bouncing off the wall as if he were light as a feather. Nathan jumped in the air, spun and kicked Hybrid into the mirror on the wall beside them. It was clearly not something that he'd prepared for as he crashed into the mirror and then to floor. Shards of the mirror fell to the floor around him. His next intension was clear.

He gathered up the pieces of glass with his hand, the ones that were big enough to throw and he hurled them at Nathan. Flipping backwards once, twice, and performing a spiral dive, he managed to leave the attack unscathed. They engaged in battle again. Nathan punched, blocked, and punched again—pain! He'd been stabbed in the ribs with a shard of glass that Hybrid had been holding back. He countered with a punch to the jaw his foe would not soon forget. He reached for his butterfly knife, unsheathed it and let it fly, aiming for Hybrid's throat. As if he had the power of telekinesis, Hybrid held out his right hand and the knife changed its course. He caught it and threw it back at Nathan, who had just enough time to put his hand up.

The blade penetrated the skin and it was stuck in his hand. He growled in pain and snatched it out, unable to keep from watching as the wound closed up and healed so that there was not so much as a scar to show for it.

"That's handy," Hybrid admired as he too watched the wound seal up. Nathan shot a look over to his left to see that Deadpool was once again up and ready to fight. At last, they would have the opportunity to double-team him. It was clear that it was going to take that much. It was no wonder Hybrid was known to be so deadly—you couldn't catch him if he ran.

"Two against one? It just doesn't seem fair!" he taunted them. He pulled two sais from his belt and twirled them with skill. All of this sword fighting was making Nathan wish he'd brought more than just a butterfly knife to this fight, he would get slashed to ribbons if he jumped in. His eyes darted around.

_Forget this! Where're my guns_?

Deadpool lashed out and Hybrid crossed his blade. The clanging noise was almost rhythmic as their swords sparked and danced through the air. Nathan's pistols were nowhere to be found, so he settled for one of the agents'. Nabbing the pistol he turned and aimed. He was concerned for Deadpool's safety for only a second, and then Hybrid kicked him across the room. Nathan pulled the trigger as fast as the gun would allow, keeping it trained on Hybrid's midsection. Once again the bullets seemed to pass through him and go into the wall. Shooting at him was completely useless, Nathan figured.

Suddenly an idea came to him, but it would involve him getting all slashed up or end up with missing limbs. While Deadpool's healing factor would regenerate lost parts for him, Nathan was certain that his would not fair as well. He'd have to hope he'd get lucky and Hybrid would only stab him.

The array of bullets that Nathan sent Hybrid's way was just enough time for Deadpool to recuperate and strike again. Nathan searched frantically through an agent's pack, looking for the one thing that he was sure would stop Hybrid on his tracks.

_YES!_

He pulled the darts out and uncapped them, ready to strike. He didn't waste any time, he leapt through the air at Hybrid, completely disregarding the pain he knew was coming his way. He grasped the needles in his hand and placed his thumbs at the end of them. He landed behind Hybrid and went for it, with all of his might, only to end up with his sais stabbed deep within his belly. But that was all the time that Nathan needed. He jabbed the needles into Hybrid's soft neck flesh and pumped him full of sedatives.

When Hybrid pulled the sais out of Nathan's gut, he thought for sure he'd bleed to death before his healing factor kicked in. He'd twisted the blades on the way out, opening the wound to nearly three times the size it would have normally been. Nathan grasped the wounds, as if he could hold the blood in. He fell to his knees, lightheaded and watched as Hybrid plucked the needles from his neck. Deadpool struck him on the head from behind, knocking him to his knees as well. Just when everything started to fade to black, Nathan could feel the tingle in his stomach. He still didn't know if he would make it.

Everything faded and the last thing he remembered seeing was Lindsey reaching out for him, begging for his help. He was, once again, unable to answer her call and he slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

Deadpool looked down on his two fallen pupils. He had trained them both and trained the well. He was worried that even with Nathan's help he would be unable to stop Hybrid. The kid had far surpassed Deadpool in everyway. He was so lethal and so deadly, the MCA didn't dare send a routine combat squad to pick him up, and they had to use mutants to do their dirty work.

_You fight fire with fire_, he thought. He looked around. He had precious few seconds to accomplish what he needed to. He pulled down the rope from the grappling device above and coiled it up. He drug Nathan, who was alive but unconscious and Hybrid, who would be out for a long time, considering the dose of sedatives that Nathan had given him, to the center of the room. He positioned them in a sitting position, back-to-back and began to bind them together. Around and around he coiled the rope, around his pupils.

He pulled down the next rope, cut it in half and bound each of their feet. They weren't going anywhere quickly if they woke up. Both of them would be far too weak to break out of the ropes holding them. Even Nathan, with his superior strength wouldn't fully recover from the wound that Hybrid dealt to him for another hour or so. Such a wound would've killed an ordinary man in seconds.

_Now for the fun part_…he thought dryly. Using his bokken sword he hacked off his left hand. He cried out in pain as the healing factor restored the limbs. He continued to do this, cutting little bits off of his body and placing them strategically around Nathan and Hybrid. At last he began to place incendiary explosives all around them. His new plan was working more perfectly than he thought.

If we're dead, they won't come looking for us…this is the only way… 

He looked down and saw that Nathan was stirring to consciousness and opening his eyes. Deadpool kept his gaze fixed on his pupil as their gaze met.

* * *

"Deadpool? What's going on?" Nathan asked. His equilibrium must've been off or something. He couldn't see or focus on anything with his head spinning the way that it was.

"Glad to see that you're still among the living, for now," he heard Deadpool his quite diabolically.

"What're you doing?" Nathan demanded, realizing for the first time that he was tied up. He knew that he was tied back-to-back to someone. Though he couldn't see who it was, he had a pretty good idea.

"What has to be done, my friend. The MCA will continue to hunt us unless they think we are dead. The squad they sent here with us is dead, but it won't be long before a replacement comes to check on their progress. If all they find are pieces of us, they'll think that we were all incinerated in the blast!"

Nathan looked around and saw that there were bombs set around him—one on each side and one in front of him. There wouldn't be much, if anything at all, left of him if Deadpool ignited the charges. Here and there were limbs and different body parts that could've only come from Deadpool. His plan was suddenly made clear to Nathan.

"You're going to blow us up and you're going to escape!"

"You always did catch on pretty quick, Nathan. Your ideas of living a normal happy life were too good to resist! Now, you've provided me with the perfect opportunity to achieve it!"

"So you're going to use me, _kill_ me so that you can have your perfect life? What about our training? What about being partners?" Nathan asked. He didn't have anything in him left to hurt, so anger was the only emotion that he could feel bubbling up within him.

"Nathan, you fool. I've been using you from the very beginning!" Deadpool tugged off his mask and Nathan nearly leapt from his skin. It was as if he was looking in the mirror, for Deadpool wore his face.

"How?" was all that Nathan could manage.

"When I brought you in I took detailed, 3-D pictures of your head. While you were away in Sheol, undergoing your _treatment_ I was busy having my face redone!"

"You planned on stealing my identity? That's ignorant, Deadpool! You can't go around wearing my face. The MCA will come looking for me!"

"Not if you're splattered all over this condo!" Deadpool shot back. "Sure, I'll have to lay low for a while, but once they discover that you and Hybrid are dead, and they assume that I'm dead from the pieces left of me, I'll be able have my freedom!" he laughed.

"I trusted you! You were my leader, my mentor!" Nathan protested.

"Oh, you're breaking my heart! You've got sixty seconds to make your peace with God, Nathan. Have a nice rest of your life!" he taunted and he was gone out of the window, never to be seen again.

Panic began to swell inside of Nathan as he looked down at the timer. Sure enough, he had fifty-two seconds since Deadpool had given him sixty.

_I'm not dying like this…not today_.

His strength had not returned to full yet and he was unable to break the ropes. He fought and struggled with everything that he had, not able to break them. He had to think of something fast. The bombs' beep-beep countdown chime didn't help his thought process. He reached back with his hands to feel around for something in Hybrid's pocket or pack—anything, a knife a key, a piece of glass—wait! He felt the familiar shape of a shuriken in his hand. Even though it cut into his fingers and he could feel the blood start to trickle down his wrists. He hacked away at the ropes with everything that he had in him. He dared to glance at the timer and he roared with frustration. He had thirty-one seconds left.

The first three rounds of the rope were cut, he didn't have the strength to break them but they were loose enough now to wiggle out of. He cut the ropes around his feet with a little more ease and jumped to his feet. He looked down at the timer and then to Hybrid. He had precious few seconds to make a decision before it was too late. Should he take him with him? Save him? Should he run for it, hide and save himself?

In the small frame of time given him, Nathan scooped up Hybrid, and positioned him over his shoulder. With twelve seconds left on the clock, Nathan bolted for the door. He ran down the all with all of his might, passing the elevator and hoping for set of stairs. It set off the emergency alarm as he busted through. He cleared one flight of stairs before the blast went off, shaking the whole building to the foundation. He found the nearest fire escape and went down it, carrying Hybrid the whole way. He had to find some place to lay low for a while, but he was out of ideas. He'd never been to Puerto Rico before. The sky suddenly broke with lightning, thunder and rain. Nathan had known a storm was coming.

He ran, his healing factor keeping him steady with his pace until he got to an abandoned house in the slums of the city he was in. He plopped Hybrid on the floor and dropped from exhaustion. He wasn't on the floor for more than a few seconds before he fell asleep.

Again the same nightmare…unable to save his beloved…flooded through his thoughts.


	6. Titan

Nathan stirred awake, completely healed now, and immediately shot a look over at Hybrid. He was still unconscious, breathing steadily. Nathan was glad. It would've been a shame if Hybrid had woke up before he had, decided he had a grudge and killed him. Nathan shuddered at the thought. The house reeked of rotten wood and mildew. There was a faint hint of urine and feces as well.

_Charming_.

It was still a step up from being in a cell, Nathan decided. Although he didn't think that too many mutants were in stuck in Sheol anymore. From what he'd heard through the whispers of the MCA, a terrorist group of mutants known as the X-Men had come to retrieve two of their own, who'd been recently captured. In the meantime, they'd set free every single mutant held there in Sheol.

_Sounds like my kind of people_.

His thoughts feel on Deadpool. How could he have betrayed him like that? How could've he have been planning this all along, playing Nathan for a fool.

_I am a fool, to believe his lies_.

What was he supposed to do now? Did he go and hunt down Deadpool, seeking out his revenge. No, that wasn't his style. He was much more pleased with the idea that Deadpool thought he was dead, than Nathan getting to pay him back. Nathan suddenly realized that he was free. It hit him like ton of bricks and he welcomed it with open arms. Now, he would finally be able to find his beloved, his Lindsey. He'd be able to know once and for all whether she was dead or alive.

How long had it been? Months? Years? No, it hadn't been a year yet. It was around seven and a half months, Nathan decided quickly. Oh how he longed to hold her in his arms, to hear the sound of her voice. It overwhelmed him with joy, a feeling he'd long forgotten since his time in Sheol, his training with Deadpool, and his betrayal on his first mission. His life had been a living hell for so long, he'd forgotten exactly what happiness tasted like. He could smell the aroma, waiting for him back home in Illinois—if she were still there.

She would've had to go into hiding of some sort or another. He was certain that the MCA were looking for her. She was smart and resourceful and as long as she traveled by night, she could be anywhere. It was both a comforting and troubling thought, that she could be anywhere. Anywhere included a place where she was safe from the MCA, and a place where Nathan could not find her.

He looked around the kitchen of the house for something to eat. He opened the fridge and choked back bile at the horrendous smell. The food had long since spoiled and there was all manner of mold and other green, fuzzy organisms growing on the food. It had been a while since he'd had a good meal, and he didn't expect to find it in this dump. He opened the cupboards and found that cockroaches enjoyed cereal as much as he would've at that point. He continued to look and found some unopened cans of ravioli. He looked at the expiration date. It didn't matter so much, because he didn't know the exact date anyway. He did know what year it was and to his surprise, the ravioli had not expired.

He looked around for a can opener and couldn't find one. He rolled his eyes at himself and tore the top of the can off with his bare hands.

"Ow!" he exclaimed as he cut his fingers on the aluminum can. In seconds, the healing factor kicked in and he was good as knew. He found a fork easy enough and did his best to wipe it off on his clothes. There was no telling what had crawled over the fork over time. He crammed several pieces at a time into his mouth, unable to steady himself. He ate the remaining cans with similar mannerisms. His hunger was not satisfied but it would hold him over until he could find something else.

He found the bathroom and relieved himself. The toilet flushed so he turned the shower on. Strangely enough, the house still had running water. It didn't get hot as the electricity had clearly been off for a while, but the idea that a shower was available to him was still tempting. He turned the water off and went back into the room where he'd left Hybrid.

_I can't believe that Garrett is the Hybrid_!

Then came another thought that hit him like a ton of bricks. This one wasn't as welcomed as the first. There were so many questions that he wanted to ask him, but they under the assumption that Hybrid didn't try to kill him as soon as he woke up. Nathan had some ammo and grenades with him, but other than that, he had only his bare hand to stop him. It was a good thing that he'd given him so many sedatives, he thought. Even a mutant as powerful as the Hybrid would have trouble rising to the occasion after something like that.

Hybrid was still on the floor, but he appeared to be stirring back to consciousness. Nathan kicked himself for not checking him for weapons. He seemed to be able to pull them out of his ears when they were in the condo. There was no telling as to whether or not he had more knives or a gun holed up somewhere up his sleeve. If there was still ought between them, the smartest thing would be for them to go their separate ways and meet another day, Nathan thought. He could only hope that Hybrid would have the same reasoning.

"Ugh…my head," Hybrid complained. He sat up and looked around, obviously disgusted by his surroundings.

"I don't believe we had enough time to get reacquainted before. How've you been Garrett?"

"Nathan? What the hell are you doing here? How do you know Deadpool?" Hybrid suddenly demanded.

"I could be asking you the same questions, Garrett. I thought you were dead. Everyone did."

"That's what they were supposed to think. The MCA staged my death so that they didn't have anyone coming to look for me. This was before the registration act came down, so they had to keep their operations on the down low," he explained.

"The MCA captured you?"

"Yeah, they said that I had potential to be in this mutant project called Weapon X, which you're obviously familiar with. I didn't take to the healing factor at all, my body completely rejected it. Even though I was a failure as far as that went, they saw a prize when I began my training with Deadpool."

"How'd you escape?" Nathan asked, wanting to get to the main parts of the story. It was clear that he didn't have too much to worry about as far as a fight brewing between them. Hybrid's tone was not hostile. In fact, it was almost cordial, as if he were happy to be catching up with an old friend.

"One day while we were training, I blasted my way out. I thought I had killed Deadpool, but I was wrong about that one. I went into business for myself, taking on the most impossible jobs that I could get my hands on. Pretty soon I made a name for myself and I started getting paid a lot of money to kill people," he replied. Nathan would normally be so opposed to such a lifestyle, but he had a new sympathy to anyone who'd been subject to the MCA's torture. What else did one have, after escaping such a place.

"What kind of people did you kill?" Nathan asked, before he realized it.

"Bad people: drug lords, slave runners, mutant oppressors, black market tycoons…those kinds of people…people this world doesn't need and will never miss," Hybrid defended his position. Nathan wished he hadn't asked; he didn't want to know and it wasn't really his business.

"And now you're here?"

"Yep. What about you? Let's hear your story, Nate," Hybrid said with a smirk.

Nathan started from the very beginning, with the attack and how he'd killed two officers. He touched some details about him hiding out in Lindsey's, the attack from the MCA, getting caught. He went into more detail about Sheol, and they exchanged a few horror stories about what they'd endured while on the inside. He gave him all the details about what Deadpool had done, including taking Nathan's identity. He was careful to touch base on the fact that he had saved his life. If there was any help at all that Hybrid could give him, Nathan was going to milk it for all it was worth. At the end, Hybrid gave a low, long whistle.

"It sounds like you've had quite a trip."

"I'd say you have no idea, but it seems our stories are pretty much the same one," Nathan replied. "Now what?"

"That depends. Clearly my safe house here is no longer safe, so I need to get out of here. It seems that I owe you a favor, for saving my life—though you did try to kill me."

"You didn't leave me with much option," Nathan protested.

"I'm kidding. You're welcome to come along with me to my safe house in Miami. You can get rest, a change of clothes and some food there. Then, I'll imagine that you'll want to get on with your life."

"I don't know how that is going to be possible, with this war and all," Nathan admitted dryly. It wasn't as if he could just buy a plane ticket and fly commercial to go home for his mom's cooking. The MCA would be hunting him at every corner. He was stuck in a rock and a hard place.

"My suggestion to you is this, find a mutant faction to join and take cover with them. We are more powerful in greater numbers, the MCA are less likely to kill us that way," Hybrid suggested.

"What about the whole lone assassin thing?"

"I thought I'd be able to keep that up, but I was wrong. The MCA got to me and now I'm going to have to revert back to my roots," he sighed.

"Your roots?"

"I was in the _original_ Brotherhood of mutants," the response surprised Nathan. The Brotherhood of mutants was renown to be terrorists and criminals. What puzzled him even more was the word he used: original.

"What do you mean, original?"

"I don't know if you know the story behind the Brotherhood or not," Hybrid started.

"I don't," Nathan gave him permission with a wave of his hand.

"A woman named Raven Darkholme, better known as Mystique, formed a mutant task force known as The Brotherhood of Mutants way back in the day. She met and fell in love with a man named Erik Lenshurr, who we all know as Magneto."

Nathan shuddered at that name. Though Magneto had long since died, his memory lived on in hearts of those who had survived his attack with Asteroid M. There were all kinds of news coverage about that.

"Yeah, go on."

"She handed over control of the Brotherhood to Magneto and went on a rampage, trying to destroy the world with Asteroid M…old news. Anyway, after the X-Men stopped the Brotherhood and killed Magneto, they were forced to go into hiding.

"No one had any idea how powerful the Brotherhood had grown since Magneto had taken control of it. Mystique tried to rebuild and restart where Magneto had left off, but she didn't have the support of the entire Brotherhood. A man named Mindflare got the majority of the Brotherhood to follow him.

"With only the few founding members and a few stragglers and new recruits, me included, it didn't look like the Brotherhood was ever going to reach its former glory. I stayed and trained with them for a while before the MCA picked me up. I was always loyal to them, so I'm sure there's still a spot for me there," Hybrid finished.

"Aren't the Brotherhood terrorists?"

"Magneto always had a forceful way of doing things, I'll say that much. Mystique is a little more subtle, a little more toned down."

"Why don't you join a more honorable mutant group, like X-Factor, Alpha Flight or X-Men?"

"X-Factor broke up, Alpha Flight is all the way in Canada, they don't take new recruits anyway…they're a little different, and I don't have very good ties with the X-Men," he said.

"Why not?"

"After the attack, the X-Men captured Mindflare and one of his mutants. They held him in a cell so that he couldn't do anymore damage. A few months ago, I stormed into their headquarters and busted Mindflare out. I kind of roughed up their people. I'm not exactly on their good side now. Besides I…" he trailed off as if he couldn't find the right words.

"You what? Tell me," Nathan insisted.

"I have family there and I've worked so hard to die to my old identity. I can't afford to have Garrett coming back; I'm the Hybrid now—that's just the way that it is."

Nathan suddenly remembered something. There was a boy that came to youth group a few years back, Markas Bast. He was Caleb and Garrett's cousin. Caleb talked about Markas getting accepted to go to some sort of school for higher learning. It was only a hunch, but he figured that Markas had really been accepted to join the X-Men.

"Markas," Nathan took a guess. Hybrid looked up at him with surprise.

"Markas is there too?" he asked. He had a look of regret on his face, as if he'd said more than he had meant to. It was clear that he was talking about someone else.

"Who then? Rachel?" he asked, mentioning his older sister.

"Guess again," Hybrid replied, clearly seeing no reason to withhold. Nathan thought for a minute. Garrett's parents weren't mutants, and neither were Markas's. He wasn't sure that he knew anyone else in Garrett's extended family. It couldn't be Rachel…she wouldn't leave her family. He wasn't talking about Markas…so then who?

_No…it couldn't be_.

"Caleb? Caleb is with the X-Men?" Nathan demanded in disbelief.

"Yeah. I'm not ready to have him find out that I'm still alive and that I've become…well…this," Hybrid confessed. Nathan didn't understand his reasoning, but he respected it.

"Wow…Caleb's alive?"

"Yeah, he went into hiding when the MCA came looking for him. The Brotherhood and the X-Men got into kind of a feud over who got to recruit him and the X-Men won," he sneered, as if he were glad at the fact that Caleb had not joined the Brotherhood. Nathan was glad for it. The X-Men were renown to be respectable people. They were the ones who saved the world from Magneto after all.

"It seems it runs in your family to go missing, get assumed for dead, and then reappear without warning," Nathan pointed out.

"Yeah I guess so," Hybrid smiled. He stood up and stretched. Even though Nathan didn't figure he was a threat anymore, he still kept a watchful eye on every move that he made.

"You've been locked up for a long time, Nate. I guess you're curious as to who's still alive in your life and whatnot?" Hybrid asked. The question threw him off guard.

"I'm concerned about my brother, the MCA hauled him off only a few days before they caught me. I'm not so worried about my parents. Caleb's alive, I'm definitely going to have to touch base with him. My real concern is my girlfriend," Nathan replied.

"Hillary?" Hybrid asked. That was Nathan's ex-girlfriend, the one he'd dated before Lindsey.

"No, Lindsey. Hillary and I broke up after you stopped coming to youth. Here, I got the MCA to let me keep a picture of her," Nathan reached for the picture in his shirt pocket. It was picture of the two of them together, taken only recently before the attack. He showed it to Hybrid and his eyebrows raised.

"She's your girlfriend?" he clearly knew her by the way he'd said it.

"Yeah, you know her?" Nathan asked, thinking maybe they'd known each other beforehand.

"Yeah I fought her," he replied with a sneer. A grip of panic swept over Nathan. There was no way that Lindsey would be able to survive an encounter with the Hybrid. If she'd stood her ground against him, she would've certainly fallen.

"Is she…" he started.

"Relax, she's fine or at least she was when I left her. I roughed her up a bit, nothing too serious. She' something else!" he exclaimed. Nathan was so relieved to hear that he had spared her.

"What do you mean," he asked, puzzled.

"She was the hardest fight I'd ever had. I got lucky to pull one of my flashbangs on her. She hit me with some sort of weird energy…it was like falling into a bad dream. She nearly killed me," he confessed.

"Lindsey nearly killed you?"

"Oh, it's not Lindsey anymore. Her name is Nightmare now and she's an X-Man," Hybrid corrected. It all seemed so surreal. This day, despite Deadpool's betrayal, had been the best that Nathan could've hoped for—the best he'd had in a while. He'd received word from the most unlikely source that two of his closest friends were not only alive, but were well with the X-Men. The situation provided him with a blissful reunion and safe haven with a mutant faction.

_Thank you God…you've have given to me, taken away and given again. Thank you_.

"Well then, I guess I should be asking you how to get in touch with the X-Men, shouldn't I?"

"Come with me to Miami first, I have some people I want you to meet," Hybrid requested.

"Okay, I could use a good meal and a hot shower anyway," Nathan didn't see the harm in delaying just a little longer. He would be reunited with his beloved soon enough. Besides, Hybrid was his only connection in this place, and he didn't want to stay any longer than he had to.

"To Miami?" Hybrid asked.

"To Miami," Nathan confirmed.

A few days later…in Miami, Florida… 

"Nathan Henson, meet Raven Darkholme," Hybrid motioned to a large, bald fat guy in his late forties…not what Nathan had expected. He extended his hand anyway, sure that he had called Raven Darkholme a _she_ before. Suddenly, the man began to change, morph.

_She's a metamorph_, Nathan figured instantly. She had midnight blue skin and glowing yellow eyes. Her hair was the most brilliant red that he'd ever seen—even more so than Lindsey's when she had freshly colored her own. Nathan couldn't help but give her a second look because she also had the most perfectly shaped body that he'd ever laid eyes upon.

"Pleased to meet you," her voice was definitely female, but it sounded as if she were speaking with more than one set of vocal chords. She was dressed in a long, white dress with boots to match. She grabbed his hand and shook it firmly.

"Likewise. Quite a gift you have there. Can you do voices too?"

"—Voices too?" she echoed using his own voice to answer him.

"Nice," he exclaimed.

"I hate to skip the small talk, but we have things we need to discuss, Hybrid," she switched her gaze to him. She sounded as if it were something of the utmost importance.

"Talk away," Hybrid responded, giving her permission to say what she wanted to say in front of Nathan, he figured.

"You remember our old friend Bolivar Trask?" she asked. The name sounded vaguely familiar to him.

"How could I forget?" Hybrid replied. Nathan didn't want to interrupt so he just listened, figuring the blanks would slowly fill themselves in.

"He's working directly with the MCA now, creating a new line of super-sentinels to enforce their mutant laws," she said. That's where he'd heard the name before. When Sentinels, giant robots as best Nathan knew, had been sanctioned to find a specific group of mutants in New York, they'd went haywire, killing dozens of innocent people, mutant and non-mutant alike. The X-Men had taken care of the incident, destroyed the Sentinels and stopped Trask, as the news had put it.

"You're kidding," Hybrid shot back in disbelief.

"I wish I were. I've been going on the inside, getting some intel on their new Master Mold. They're creating one Sentinel for every mutant in America—every man woman and child. They plan on sanctioning these things nationwide in a month or so," her face was grim. Nathan couldn't imagine on gigantic robot for every mutant in the country. That was millions!

"This is serious. We have to do something," Hybrid stated bluntly.

"It requires sources beyond what we can provide. We're going to need help on this one," she confessed.

"Are you suggesting we call up Mindflare?" Hybrid asked disbelievingly.

"I'd never suggest calling that treacherous villain! He's the reason we're all in this mess!" she objected.

"What do you suggest?" He looked at her and it seemed he got an answer from her by only the expression on her face. "You can't be serious, Mystique!"

"What other option do we have?" she threw her hands up.

"It's not like either one of us can just waltz in there and say, 'hello!'" Nathan was tired of being a spectator. He decided to speak up.

"Who? Who are you talking about?" he demanded. Mystique gave him an annoyed look and pursed her lips before she answered.

"The X-Men," she reacted as if saying them name send a shudder of pain through her entire body. "We don't have very good ties with them. They're likely to not believe anything we tell them."

"It's not like we didn't give them good reason," Hybrid admitted.

"We have to try," she came back to her original stance.

"They won't listen."

"We'll have to reason with them."

"They'll lock us in the stockade!"

"I'll go!" Nathan broke in.

"You?" Mystique looked him over and smirked with disbelief. "You're even worse…you're a total stranger. This isn't a time to be trusting people, Mr. Henson."

"I have ties there already. Three of my close friends are X-Men," Nathan shot back. Mystique looked at Hybrid to see if what Nathan was telling her was the truth. He nodded in confirmation and Nathan's defense. "I'd planned on going there shortly after here anyway."

"Okay then. I'm going to compile a packet for you. It contains all the information that Cyclops will need," she walked over to her desk and sat down before the computer.

"Who's Cyclops?" he asked dumbly.

"I thought you knew the X-Men!" she snapped.

"I know three of them, but I've never met any of the others in person. It'll work I promise. The X-Men have no reason to distrust me," Nathan argued.

"Very well," she gave in. "With this packet that I give you, also give Cyclops my best wishes. Tell him that the Brotherhood will come to his aid if he needs us in any way, though I don't think he'll take us up on that offer."

"Okay, I'll tell him," Nathan said, gathering his things from around the room. Mystique had the packet compiled in mere minutes. She handed him a sealed, eight-by-ten envelope.

"Guard this with your life," she said, handing him the packet. Hybrid had already given Nathan a car, guns and cash to make his departure. Nathan was on his way out when Hybrid stopped him.

"There's one more thing. You can't go up to Cyclops, claiming mutant pride and not have a mutant name," Hybrid pointed out.

"What do you suggest?"

"Super strength…something mythical…Hercules maybe?" he suggested.

"No…Hercules was just a god in mythology. There was something that even the gods feared, something completely unstoppable," Nathan began.

"The Titans…" Mystique replied.

"That's right…The Titans. I am Titan now; Nathan is no more," and so he set of for Westchester, New York. He couldn't have been a happier man, though he was delivering bleak news.

**_One week later…_**

He looked at the Xavier Institute, got out of his car holding the packet and he marched on, his mission nearly complete. He had no doubts that he'd be reunited with his love, his friendsand be taken in to the X-Men with open arms.


End file.
